The Ghoul King
by Lord-of-Change
Summary: Brought to near extinction, forgotten by the galaxy, and lost to history. To many, they had passed into legend, like so many before them. But now, as the Great Crusade marches ever onward with the dream of a better future for Mankind, they have returned from the darkness. The galaxy will never be the same again.
1. Chapter 1: The Exodus

**Chapter 1: The Exodus**

Out in the coldest reaches of space, a lone ship drifted silently through the void. The lights dimmed, all form of iconography scrubbed clean, and running on as little power as possible, the crew spent every waking hour praying that none would find them. They all knew what awaited them if that happened. Aboard this vessel, amongst the tens of thousands of crewmembers manning their posts, one stood out from the rest. His clothes of finer qualities, his bearing that of a man used to command, and the shows of subservience offered by all he passed. He was their commander, their shepherd, their savior. Striding down the corridors of his mighty warship, his appearance was that of an aging Human man, hair slowly turning grey as the first wrinkles began marring an otherwise handsome face. The crew as well certainly looked Human enough as well, hailing from every culture known to man. But as the man passed through the holding cells, something lunged at him from within one of the cells, arms futilely reaching for him from behind the bars. As the creature within slammed itself against the bars keeping it penned in, the light revealed it to be another Human, weak and malnourished but filled with an unquenchable rage.

"Damn you, monster! You think you will get away with this?! You think we won't hunt you to extinction for this?! I swear to you, once we are done with the Men of Iron, your kind will be next!" the captive raged against his captor, who had remained unmoved by the display of anger. And only now did the man reveal his true form as he glared at his captive. Eyes once the color of the sky now turned to twin pools of darkness and blood, a savage hunger lurking within those malicious pools that cowed the captive long before the four tendrils of inky flesh wormed themselves out from beneath the man's robes.

"Silence," the words were hardly more than a whisper, but they were enough to send the captive scurrying back into the shadows of his cell again. All around him, the man could hear the terrified whimpers echoing out from within the hundreds of cells. But the man gave no sign that he cared about their existence as he continued on his way, the occupants of every cell he passed scurrying as far away from him as their meager accommodation allowed. Only when he had exited the holding pens, and the door slammed shut behind him by two guards, did the man let his façade of nonchalance drop. The tendrils withdrew back under his robes while his eyes turned back to their usual blue color. A resigned sigh escaped from his throat as he continued on his way.

"Millennia of work to establish peace between Human and Ghoul, all undone," he lamented to himself. Two species, so different from one another, and yet somehow hailing from the same world. If that was not proof enough that God had a sick sense of humor, he did not know what else could be. Ever at odds with one another, ever hunting the other but never able to end the vicious cycle. Even when they both took to the stars, the animosity remained, an invisible barrier that halted all progress for peaceful coexistence. Only with the discovery of xeno species did the option for reconciliation become a possibility. As more and more species banded together with mankind, the quarrel between Humans and Ghouls turned quite trivial when compared to the greater scope of the galaxy. Everything had been going so well for a change, and then the unthinkable happened. The one force no one expected any trouble from turned on their masters, and now the galaxy was being torn apart.

"So much work, so much progress, all lost forever," he muttered quietly to himself as he stepped aboard the bridge, currently abuzz with activity. But as soon as he stepped inside, they all stopped to salute their leader.

"Lord Fueguchi!" one of the greeted with great reverence.

"At ease," Fueguchi simply answered as he waved a dismissive hand at the crew, who quickly resumed work. "Any word from the rest of our fleet?"

"We're expecting group 3 back any second now," just as he said this, alarms began blaring while a Warp Rift opened up. Out of it, three ships emerged, bearing the scars of battle.

"I thought group 3 was supposed to contain 10 ships," Fueguchi observed calmly, even though worry began to gnaw at his soul.

"You're correct about that," the helmsman answered, right as an incoming transmission arrived from one of the newly arrived ships.

" _Group 3 reporting in, sir,"_ a voice crackled over the comm system.

"You were supposed to have 10 ships at your command, where are the rest?" Fueguchi's demand was at first met with silence, and when the answer arrived, it came with a solemn tone.

" _They… they didn't make it. The Iron Men came while we were still evacuating, took us completely by surprise,"_ a somber atmosphere gripped the bridge, and Fueguchi bowed his head in mourning.

"Everything keeps going wrong," he murmured to himself as more and more ships slowly trickled in, their numbers nothing but pale shadows compared to what had set out to begin with.

"So few," someone observed sadly, and Fueguchi could not help but agree. The Men of Iron, those designed by man to serve and protect, were now ravaging every system they could reach, slaughtering all in their path. The Ghoul population, already in a minority beforehand, was rapidly vanishing from the galaxy. With Human aggression bubbling to the forefront again, and with the multitude of Xenos hovering above the carnage like vultures, Fueguchi knew that the Ghouls were done for if action was not taken. What he was doing now would be his last gamble, an all or nothing to try and save his people. He would gather every Ghoul he could find from every corner of the galaxy, and like Moses and the Hebrews he would lead his people on an exodus, to find a safe haven. Let the Iron Men and Xenos fight over the scraps of humanity's empire, Fueguchi would not allow his people to fade into oblivion. Not without a fight, at least.

"My lord, another ship inbound," the helmsman reported as another Warp Rift appeared. What came out of this one however was a badly mauled husk of a ship, spewing fuel and oxygen from the innumerable holes punched through its armor plating.

"What the hell happened to them?!" Fueguchi burst out in outrage as the whole bridge erupted in chaos, technicians running back and forth in a blind panic.

"Incoming transmission!" the call went up seconds before another voice spoke over the comm, urgent and terrified.

" _We've been compromised! The Men of Iron knows where we are! They're heading this way as we speak!"_ and those words turned Fueguchi's face white as sheet. He knew well enough that their meager forces were no march for the Men of Iron in open conflict. Quick action was needed now, if they would have a chance of surviving.

"Send the call out, we're leaving right now!" he swiftly ordered.

"But all our fleets haven't returned yet! If we leave now, they'll be stranded with no way to contact us!" someone fearfully pointed out. He did not elaborate on their fates further than that, because they all knew what it would be.

"And if we stay here, the Men of Iron will obliterate us and then pick apart the rest of us at their leisure!" Fueguchi roared back in anger. He hated himself for what he was ordering them to do, but it had to be done. Better that most of them die than all of them.

"We're receiving confirmation, my lord, the rest of the fleet is moving to follow us,"

"No suitable course has been found yet, as we don't know what awaits us out there,"

"We've got incoming hostiles!" and that last warning heralded the arrival of the Iron Men. Hundreds of their fearsome serpentine-like spaceships slithering through space straight towards the ghoul fleet.

"Dammit, get us into Warp travel now!" Fueguchi shouted to be heard over the blaring klaxons.

"But what's our destination?!"

"ANYWHERE BUT HERE!" by now, even Fueguchi's visage of confidence was cracking under the strain, but he cared not at this point. All that mattered now was getting away with as many lives as possible.

"But we're not ready yet! We're still calibrating for the jump! And the Iron Men will be upon us before that happens!" more and more bad news. At this rate, none of them would make it out alive.

" _Fueguchi, you get our people out of here, me and my boys will hold the bastards off,"_ someone called over the comm, his identity lost in the chaos.

"You know that's a suicide mission. Even if you win, there would be no way for you to rejoin us," Fueguchi warned. Standard protocol by now, ships designated for delaying tactics were not given the rendezvous coordinates to prevent enemy pursuit in case of the worst. In the past, they had a secondary rendezvous point from which they could be safely picked up at a later date, but there would be no such thing this time.

" _What can I say? I always did like to play the big damn hero,"_ came the humorous reply before a group of ships detached from the fleet and rushed straight towards the oncoming hostiles. Fueguchi said nothing, merely lowering his head in a brief moment of mourning before turning his attention back to the crew.

"What are you lot waiting for? They're giving up their lives to save ours, and I don't intend to make their sacrifice be in vain!" he barked at them as the fleet continued on. Battle was soon joined, and the Iron Men absolutely chewed through their rearguard.

"Come on, come on, come on," Fueguchi repeated over and over, waiting for the signal.

"We're ready, sir!" and there was what he had been waiting for.

"Then make the jump already!" Barely had the words left his mouth before the view before them exploded into a fiery combination of colors and the fleet rushed headlong into this churning maelstrom of otherworldliness. Then the view vanished as metal panels slammed down around the bridge's windows, a protection against the madness that awaited on the other side. Though blind to what happened outside, Fueguchi still felt when they fully entered the Warp, an uncomfortable feeling that made his insides flip over before the protection of the Gellar Fields lessened it. Only now, away from realspace, did Fueguchi allow himself to relax as he collapsed into a chair, weeks of exhaustion catching up to him.

"Estimated time until arrival?" he inquired.

"Five months, give or take a couple weeks," the navigator reported, receiving a sight nod from Fueguchi.

"Then there's only one thing left to do," as he said this, he rose from his seat and activated a ship-wide comm.

"Brothers and sisters, we have finally escaped the clutches of death. We are now on the road towards a new and brighter future for our kind. But it was not without cost or sacrifice, so I call for a minute of silence for all those brave men and women that gave their lives for us," a somber mood spread across the entire ship, all Ghouls present mourning their lost comrades. Fueguchi for his part only gave himself a few moments to offer the same courtesy, then it was back to work. They had escaped for now, but danger still lied ahead.

* * *

"So, how bad is it?"

"Not as bad as you might fear, my lord. While many of our cargo ships never made it to the rendezvous point, we still carry enough provisions and equipment to kickstart a new colony. It will be a bit less comfy, and definitively a hell of all lot more crowded, but we can still make due," Those had to be the best news shared so far, gathered after days of extensive inspection of their holdings and that of their fellow ships in the fleet.

"That's good to hear, but what about the Humans?" Fueguchi's question brought with it an uncomfortable silence as the messenger worked on how to best formulate it.

"They've become… agitated. We've had to kill several of them to restore order, but that only works as a temporary solution," he finally admitted. Yet another problem on Fueguchi's desk.

"Do whatever you can to suppress them, but do not go overboard with executions. We can ill afford to thin their numbers too much," Fueguchi cautioned. Oh, how he wished he could have just left those Humans behind, would have saved countless resources for other tasks. Alas, with Ghoul physiology being the way it is, those humans were a necessity for their continued survival.

"We'll do our best, but-" an ear-splitting scream interrupted whatever else the messenger meant to say, and they both turned their startled eyes to the Navigator, currently writhing on the floor in agony as he screeched like a wounded animal.

"What the hell's going on?!" Fueguchi called out as he rushed to the navigator's side, trying to hold the man still as he flailed about, screams giving way to incoherent babbling.

"Word just got in, our Astropaths just went completely bonkers as well!" someone called out, right before the whole ship shook, throwing everyone off their feet.

"Did we hit something?" Fueguchi called out in bewilderment, just as another violent bang echoed through the ship and rocked it like a fishing boat caught in a storm. And was it Fueguchi's imagination, or was there someone laughing in the background?

"I don't know, we're not detecting anything of note!" as those words were uttered, the unmistakable noise of metal groaning under heavy pressure echoed through the ship. Now there was no question about it, someone was laughing, except it sounded like no laugh a normal Human or Ghoul could ever produce.

"Get us out of the Warp, now!" Fueguchi frantically called as the ship began jerking back and forth, like a titanic beast was trying to tear it in two.

"But we haven't reached our coordinates yet! We'll have no idea where in the galaxy we'll end up!" a loud bang nearly deafened the whole bridge, right before panicked calls from engineering reported that… _something_ had ripped its way inside the ship.

"Better than staying here with whatever the hell's attacking us!" Fueguchi call seemed to win over as the crew hurriedly began relaying orders back and forth in preparation.

"Emergency exit in 3… 2… 1…" and then, it was over. They were back in realspace. Battered, bruised and limping, but alive. Finally, after what felt like hours to most, Fueguchi spoke up again.

"So, how bad is it?"

* * *

Three ships, that was all that remained. Out of a fleet numbering in the thousands, only three ships had made it all the way through, the rest destroyed in human space or lost in the Warp. There had been billions of Ghouls taking part in this Exodus, now they would be lucky if they could scrape together ten thousand from the battered ships.

"Status report," a tired Fueguchi requested from the gathering of Ghoul commanders, or at least the highest ranking Ghouls still alive.

"To be honest, we're in deep shit. We lost every psyker in the Warp to that… whatever it was. And our engines got pretty badly mauled when we made that emergency exit, meaning we wouldn't be able to leave this system even if we had the psykers to guide our way," one of the captains reported grimly.

"We're also running risks of food shortage soon. We lost all our dedicated cargo ships on the way, the amount of Humans we carry onboard can only feasibly last for a year, maybe two if we impose some harsh rations," another added.

"Furthermore, one of our ships is too badly damaged to continue to operate. We're gonna have to abandon it as soon as possible," and the bad news just kept on piling up.

"You can add the last two ships to that list as well. We don't have the tools or the resources to repair and maintain them as dedicated battleships. We're better off landing them somewhere and use them as habitats," really, was there no end to them?

"Might I suggest keeping quiet about just how bad the situation is? The crew is growing increasingly agitated due to recent setbacks. Any further and it might escalate into mutiny," no, they really did not.

"Please tell me there is some good news at least?" Fueguchi almost pleaded with them.

"Well, we did find a habitable world for us. Initial scout runs suggest it has a similar climate to Old Earth," another reported.

"Well, at least that's something," Fueguchi grudgingly admitted as he pondered their situation. This whole Exodus had gone to hell in a handbasket, with the only consolation being that they somehow survived. But for how long would that last? How much longer until they starved to death? Or were tracked down and exterminated once and for all? _'NO! I can't allow myself to think like that! My people is looking to me for leadership, and I can't allow myself to be distracted by doubts! We will survive this, no matter the cost!'_

"It seems we have little time to waste then," he spoke up again, gaining everyone's attention. "First order of business is establishing a colony on our new home. We'll crash the unsalvageable ship to the surface and use its part to lay the foundation. The other two ships will be kept in space for as long as possible in case of a potential attack. Furthermore, due to the obvious shortage of food for us, we'll need to include population restrictions, as well as forcing the Humans into a rapid breeding program. To that end, I suggest the following…" and as Fueguchi continued to lay out the groundwork of his plan, he fervently hoped it would be enough to save his people. Some of what he planned could easily be described as cruel, maybe even damning, but he cared not. As long as he could save his people, no price was too high.

"By the way, what should we call our new home?" someone suddenly interrupted, and everyone turned to Fueguchi in anticipation. Caught off guard by the question, he nevertheless quickly recovered and made a decision based more on a whim than actual planning.

"Gūru. We'll call it Gūru,"

* * *

And so began the first steps to rebuild their decimated people, a work they took to with gusto. Within years, a bustling capital had been forged out of the remnants of their scuttled ship, with villages slowly sprouting up in the surrounding countryside. Within decades, explorers had mapped out most of the world, with new towns and villages springing to life worldwide. Under Fueguchi's guidance, the Ghouls thrived, but the Humans suffered. For while great cities arose for the Ghouls to live in, the Humans were treated as no better than cattle, contained in what was essentially a bastardized hybrid of prisons and farms, with only the privileged few granted the right to live among the Ghouls as lowly servants.

But none of that mattered to the Ghouls, who hailed Fueguchi as their savior, granting him the title of Shepherd. Yes, with Fueguchi at the helm, the future looked bright for the Ghouls. But all good things must come to an end, as not even one as mighty as Fueguchi could escape the cold clutches of death. Fifty years to the day of their arrival, Fueguchi passed away, and a whole race mourned his passing. To many, he died the greatest Ghoul that ever was or ever would be, and saw his passing as the end of an era.

Oh, how right they were.

With the great visionary dead, many looked to his son for guidance, but it proved to be a task too great for the young man. Kind and gentle, with a mind for culture and poetry, he lacked the charisma, strength, and above all vision that his father had used to unite a broken people. Constantly under pressure to live up to an idolized image no mortal being could ever hope to match, he grew cautious and doubtful, constantly second-guessing himself, no matter how trivial a decision it may be. In the court of lord Fueguchi, the disappointment was almost palpable. But with that disappointment, came ambition.

Soon, many began looking to better candidates to lead them into the future, and those candidates in turn began a ruthless game of politics and propaganda to boost their own popularity and discredit their rivals. As lines were slowly being drawn in the sand, Fueguchi desperately tried to maintain control over the situation, but few listened to the inept ruler. As talks turned to insults, insults turned to threats, threats turned to plotting, and plotting turned to fights, it was clear to ever sentient being on Gūru that lord Fueguchi had lost control of the situation. Now it was only a matter of time until something went horribly, horribly wrong.

That something came on the day of lord Fueguchi's birthday, when his headless corpse was found in his chamber.

Barely had his corpse grown cold before a dozen pretenders rushed in to claim the title of Ruler of Gūru. It turned into a heated debate as they argued back and forth about who should be the new ruler, threats and promises handed out like candy by all parties to lure more supporters to their side. That was when the late lord Fueguchi's daughter burst into the hall, accompanied by over fifty Ghouls and with nothing but vengeance on her mind. He debate turned into a massacre, as the new lord Fueguchi killed every man and woman she could get her hands on, uncaring of their guilt or innocence. What few survivors that managed to escape her wrath quickly fled the city, scattering in every direction. Alas, that one massacre proved to be the final nail in the coffin. Within a fortnight, the empire that the Shepherd built had fractured into hundreds of warring states and fiefdoms, each vying for power with their neighbors. Society degraded into a feudal society, and much of the technology and knowledge scavenged from their broken ships were lost in the chaos.

Though the line of Fueguchi survived, it was now nothing more than another house of Ghoul nobility clinging to whatever scraps of power it could maintain, constantly under threat from rivals all around them. So they remained, as years turned to decades, and as decades turned to centuries. And as the remnants of the Ghouls busied themselves with slaughtering each other on their backwater planet, the galaxy moved on without them, the memory of their very existence slowly fading into legend.

But this was not to be the end.

Millennia later, long after Ghouls had passed into legend among the human race, an event that would shape the future of the galaxy was unfolding. Deep beneath the surface of Luna, guarded by the best security known to man, lied a laboratory so secretive that only the highest of echelons even knew of its existence. And in this laboratory, twenty chambers lied in silence, tended to by scientists and servitors with the utmost care. This was the Primarch Project, the work of the Emperor of Man himself in his bid to create legions of genetically enhanced super soldiers to conquer the stars and reunite the scattered remnants of the Human race. But there were forces working against the Emperor's goal, malicious fiends of unimaginable power that desired nothing but Chaos and destruction. These forces now made their move, bypassing the defenses laid out by the Emperor and tearing open a rift in reality itself. As the laboratory was consumed in madness and destruction, the twenty chambers were torn free and swallowed up by the Warp.

Be it by the machinations of Gods or by pure dumb luck, these twenty chambers were not wiped from existence once in the grip of Chaos, but instead scattered across the galaxy. One by one, they would burst back into reality, each landing upon a world that would come to be their occupant's new home, be it a thriving planet or an irradiated wasteland. But one of these chambers was special. You see, in another time and age, this chamber would not have travelled far from his creator. It would have landed on an unremarkable world ruled by Humans, and the Primarch within would then come to carve out his own fiefdom. He would have been the third one reunited with the Emperor, proudly serving his father until circumstances deleted from archives would see him and his legion vanish, never to be heard or seen of again.

But now, with fate being woven in a new shape, that future was lost. Just as the chamber was about to burst out of the Warp, an ancient power seized it and cast it further into the Warp. Every time it seemed close to enter into the galaxy again, that same power would drag it back in and guide it deeper into uncharted space. When it was finally allowed to leave the Warp, its journey had brought it many millions of lightyears from its original destination. And as it descended from the heavens towards the planet below it, there was the laughter of thirsting gods.

* * *

"Hurry, they're gaining on us!" a young voice shouted frantically, its owner fleeing with all haste through the dark forest. Around him, other shapes moved with great haste, fearful glances thrown over their shoulders. At that moment, the full moon peaked out from behind the dark clouds above, bathing the land below in its ethereal glow. It was enough the faintly reveal those fleeing in terror below. Humans, roughly a dozen of them, clothed in wool and leather, and dirty from weeks on the run.

"Keep moving! Don't stop for anything!" the one at the head urged on. For a moment, he slowed down to check their rear. What he saw filled his soul with dread. Dark shapes, barely visible in the undergrowth, slowly closing in on their group. Then, for the briefest moments, he glimpsed a single thing about their pursuers. Eyes, red as blood, and filled with a ravenous hunger. Without hesitation, he picked up the pace, almost outstripping his fellow Humans. But no matter how hard they ran, no matter how far they fled, their pursuers never lost track, never tired of the chase. Suddenly, one of the Humans tripped on something, falling over with a terrified yelp. But no one stopped to help her.

"NO, COME BACK! DON'T LEAVE ME!" she screamed in terror, hands outstretched after her fleeing compatriots. Then their pursuers were upon her and with a final wail of anguish, she was torn apart in an explosion of blood and gore. Once the grizzly work was done for, one of the pursuers threw his head back and laughed to the skies.

"Oh, I never grow tired of these hunts!" he loudly proclaimed, black and red eyes sparkling with murderous joy.

"Save it, Ruyju," another grumbled in annoyance, eyes warily scanning the surrounding forests.

"Aw, don't be such a killjoy, Nazim. We don't get to have this kind of fun as often these days," the one identified as Ruyju said, his gaunt face split in half by a deranged grin as his lanky form stooped over. Nazim for his part gave him an unimpressed looked, meaty arms crossed over a broad chest as he glared down at his partner.

"And for good reason. You know these part of the woods are dangerous these days," he cautioned, and was met with a mocking laughter.

"You think a bunch of runaway Human slaves can pose a threat to us?" Ruyju sneered.

"I wasn't talking about Humans," Nazim stated, and that shut his partner up.

"Tensions have been mounting with the neighbouring Ghouls," he reluctantly admitted, right before his sickening grin returned in full force. "But that just makes things more fun," Nazim was about to reprimand him further when a great thunderous noise boomed across the land. Two startled pair of eyes travelled upwards, just in time to watch a burning meteor descend from the skies, lightening up the darkness like a beacon for the few seconds it remained airborne. Then it slammed into the ground with a great explosion that shook the very earth.

"What in the world..?" Nazim mumbled in astonishment, eyes glued to the direction that the meteor had plummeted to. Then he was off in with a speed no Human could ever hope to match.

"Hey! We are you going?!" Ryuju called after him, desperately working to keep pace with his partner.

"Where do you think?" Nazim called back as he continued onwards.

"But what about the Humans?" Ryuju questioned.

"They can wait, this can't!" Nazim answered as he ploughed through the undergrowth without even slowing down. A bunch of renegade Humans could easily be tracked down later, assuming a rival Ghoul kingdom did not simply do the job for them. This however? Whatever it was, Nazim would bet his life that it would not remain undisturbed for long. Finally, they arrived at the clearing the meteor had landed in. Or perhaps it was more accurate to say that they arrived at the clearing created by the meteor's landing.

"Damn, that was one hell of a landing," Ryuju commented, eyeing the completely scorched ground around it with something skin to admiration.

"Focus, dammit," Nazim reprimanded as he strode onto the ash strewn field, heading straight towards the object resting at the very center of the devastation.

"No appreciation for the artistic things in life," Ryuju grumbled quietly to himself as he followed after. And as they drew closer, they began to take note of certain peculiarities regarding this meteor. First and foremost the fact that it was not a meteor in the conventional sense.

"Is that thing made out of metal?" Ryuju asked in surprise. Nazim responded to his question by lightly banging on the object, receiving the telltale clang of metal.

"Sure as hell looks like it," he admitted as he circled the object, scrutinizing every inch of it. "And this part looks quite a bit like glass of some kind,"

"Now that you mention it, yeah," Ryuju's admission was followed by him leaning closer to peer inside. "Hey, is it just me, or is something moving inside there?"

"What?" Ryuju quickly found himself shoved aside as Nazim gazed inside as well. "By the Shepherd, you're right! Something's inside!" the second Nazim realized this, his koukaku burst forth from his back, a sickly green mass of scales and muscles that flowed over his right arm until it formed an arm twice as thick and topped with a gigantic fist with four clawed fingers. Without hesitation, he slammed his fingers straight through the glass before ripping the front half of the object off.

"Wow, subtle," Ryuju deadpanned, but he quickly grew silent as they beheld what was within.

"Is that a fucking Human baby?" Ryuju finally burst out in disbelief, not that Nazim could blame him as he too had a hard time believing.

"You know what? I think you might be right," Nazim eventually managed to say as he stared at the peacefully sleeping infant curled up in what had to be a pod of some sort. Even as the infant was roused by the noise around it, Nazim still had a hard time grasping what was before his eyes.

"For fuck's sake, I thought those stories momma told me as a kid about where babies come from was just a pile of shit," Ryuju added as he stared up at the sky in perplexed curiosity. Nazim for his part saw no reason to respond as he continued to observe the infant, curiosity and suspicion starting to grow within him. He could not place it, but something was off about the child. The way it looked, the way it moved, and the way it smelled. He could not place it, he could not even wholly convince himself it was real, but his guts were telling him that there was more to this child than meets the eye. Not to mention the look in its eyes as it looked back up at him. There was far too much of an intelligence behind those eyes than any infant, regardless of race, had any right to be in possession of.

"Anyway, you wanna eat it or can I have it?" Ryuju's question brought Nazim back to the present as he turned to his partner.

"What?"

"The baby, you gonna eat it or what? And please make up your damn mind quickly, 'cause I'm starving," Ryuju had barely even finished his sentence before striding towards the child, a grey bikaku in the shape of a scorpion's tail slithering out from underneath his jacket. But Nazim quickly blocked his path, a disapproving frown on his face.

"No, we're not eating this one, we're taking it back to lord Fueguchi," he stated, to his partner's visible disappointment.

"Awww, why do that? Can't we just eat it and be done with it?" he whined like a petulant child.

"Something's different about this one," Nazim simply answered as he gently scooped the infant up in his left arm, his right still encased in his koukaku. Still the infant gave no greater reaction than gazing up at his face in curiosity.

"Special? It's just a Human baby, we have hundreds of those back at the farms. What's so special about this one?" Ryuju argued, receiving an unimpressed look from Nazim.

"They don't usually fall from the sky, for starters," he answered, before marching away with the child securely clutched in his arm.

"Point taken," Ryuju admitted as he fell in step with Nazim, casting a few curious glances at the child. "So what will you call it?" the question caught Nazim off guard as he just stared blankly at Ryuju.

"You found it, after all, so shouldn't you get to name it as well? Besides, if we're keeping it around for our lord, I'd be easier if we could actually call it something," he pointed out to his partner, who slowly nodded his head in agreement.

"So, what will it be?" Ryuju pushed on, his eyes travelling from Nazim to the infant and then back to Nazim again. There was silence at first as Nazim pondered the question. Giving names had never been his forte, at least not creative ones. He dug deep into his memories for a suitable name before coming across one, a half-remembered name from an old book he read years ago.

"I think Gherib will suffice,"

* * *

 _ **So, this story has a bit of an interesting history behind. As a 40k fan, I'm always on the lookout for interesting fanfics about it, and so I one day stumbled upon**_ **The Lost Primarchs** _by_ **dorawarrior** _ **(which I highly recommend you check it, that story is simply fantastic). The story is about the two lost Primarchs, and**_ **dorawarrior _created a very interesting and complex image about what these two lost sons could have been like. Needless to say, I was quickly inspired to make my own spin on this idea, but I could never seem to create an interesting enough story around the concept, so it basically lingered in development hell while I worked on my already established story._**

 ** _But then a fellow named Mace Shepard came along, asking if I could write a Warhammer 40k/Tokyo Ghoul crossover, with his original idea setting the events in modern 40k times. At first, I was dismissive of this idea, burdened by three other stories already and not really seeing the appeal, but then I remembered my half-forgotten ideas about a Primarch story. And as if struck by lightning, inspiration came to me. Within weeks, I had the baseline for a while story planned out, and the first few chapters mapped out in my head._**

 ** _And so here we are, with yet another story added my my already crammed schedule, despite the fact that I can barely maintain a consistent update schedule with the stories I'm already working on. I know, I'm a glutton for punishment._**

 ** _Anyway, before finishing this story up, I just want to point out a small thing about the first half of the story; I have no idea whether they used Navigators and Astropaths during the Dark Age of Technology, or if they were even called that. If I got it wrong, feel free to point it out in your reviews._**


	2. Chapter 2: The Boy from the Heavens

**Chapter 2: The Boy from the Heaven**

Saigo Fueguchi, descendant of the Shepherd and ruler of the battleship-turned-castle _Exodus_ , was in a foul mood. Word was trickling in from the borders, his rivals were on the move again. For thirty years, there had been a blessed and unbroken peace on Gūru, but it seemed like that time was quickly drawing to a close.

"I guess it was inevitable, really," he muttered tiredly to himself as he ran his calloused fingers through his rapidly thinning hair. But really, could they have not waited until after he had died? Not like he had many more decades left in him at this point. Pacing around his personal solar, too busy pondering what to do with his many rivals, he did not notice the door opening and someone slinking in.

"My lord, Nazim and Ryuju has returned," that someone, a lowly servant, announced. Saigo barely took note of him.

"Tell them that they have the rest of the day off, and to report back tomorrow for the next assignment," Saigo ordered absentmindedly, too lost in his own thoughts and worries to care about much else at that point.

"My lord, they say that they have something important to show you," the servant spoke up again, which earned said servant an irritated glare from his master.

"Then send them in," he muttered, even though he would much rather be alone at this moment. As soon as the servant had scurried off, Saigo slumped into his seat, his old and weathered knees creaking in protest.

"I'm getting too old for this," he groaned to himself, just before his two best hunters entered.

"Lord Fueguchi," they chorused with a pair of synchronized bows. Saigo barely paid any heed to that, his focus being taken by the bundle held in Nazim's muscled arms.

"Is that a Human babe?" he questioned dubiously, even though his eyes told him all that he should know. It was indeed a Human baby, though one bigger than the norm, not to mention strangely calm despite being fully awake and observing him with eyes far too perceptive to belong to a toddler.

"We think so, though we're not completely sure about that," Nazim admitted, and that piqued Saigo's curiosity further.

"How so?" he inquired.

"The fucking thing fell out of the sky," Ryuju cut in. To say that Saigo was confused by Ryuju's blunt answer was an understatement.

"Come again?"

"What my partner meant to say was that we found Gherib inside a pod of some sort that fell from the sky, its origin unknown to us," Nazim elaborated as he sent a reproachful look at Ryuju, to little effect.

"Gherib?" Saigo repeated as he stared intently at Nazim, an action which had the hunter squirming uncomfortably.

"We decided to give the child a name to better identify it in the future," he answered.

"I see," Saigo mumbled as he looked at the child. Yep, there was definitively something strange with this one, there was far too much intelligence and self-awareness behind those grey eyes. But what did it mean to Saigo and his kingdom? At the moment, nothing, as he had bigger fish to fry.

"Very well, hand the child over to Helgyn and instruct her to care for and observe him," he ordered as he turned his mind to other matters.

"As you command," Nazim answered with another respectful bow before withdrawing from the solar, dragging his partner along like a piece of luggage.

* * *

Weeks later, and Saigo had all but forgotten the child as he struggled to maintain the fragile peace. A task that was beginning to grate on his nerves courtesy of the delegation currently standing before him.

"I sympathize with your esteemed uncle, but this uprising he's dealing with is not severe enough for us to divert troops across the border," Saigo explained. _Not the least because we're dealing with uprisings of our own,_ that part was better left unsaid. Ryuju and Nazim was expected to return in a few hours from another punitive excursion. This kept up any further, and they would lose a third of their human stock.

"I urge you to reconsider. My liege would be most grateful for any assistance provided for his ailing kingdom," the messenger stubbornly persisted. _More like the bastard is too cheap to clean up his own mess and is trying to con me into doing the dirty work for him._

"Be that as it may, my decision is final. The Kingdom of Coninze will not become involved in this," Saigo stated, waving a hand in dismissal. Reluctant as the messenger may be to give up, he obviously saw the futility as he bowed and left. Barely had he left before another came charging in. Saigo already missed the tedious messenger.

"Uncle! Still as healthy as ever I see!" the source of many a sleepless night and migraine-inducing days greeted in good spirit, and Saigo forced a smile onto his lips in return.

"Rin, my lovely niece, how wonderful to see you again," he lied as the young woman waltzed in like she owned the damn place. Days like these made Saigo curse his brave and headstrong sister for getting herself killed before she could set her daughter straight. The bitch was taking after her scum of a father way too much.

"Thanks, it's good to be back," she answered as she stepped up and gave an affectionate peck on his weathered cheek before planting herself in a chair right next to Saigo. The chair reserved for either the queen or the heir, but which still remained vacant despite Saigo's best attempts. _No thanks to your father, Rin._

"How was your journey?" he asked of her, even as she wished she would just leave. Because there was only one reason that could bring her back to the capital.

"Quite lovely, though the weather turned a bit sour at one point. Thankfully, my aunt was more than happy to accommodate my entourage," she replied with a dazzling smile that Saigo was so tempted to slap right off her face. _And I bet that it was just pure coincidence that your father's entire family was gathered there as well_. Letting that greedy bastard marry into the royal family had been an effective solution to strengthen his hold on the throne and placate the nobility, but Saigo's lack of an heir had given that slimy bureaucrat way too many ideas as of late.

"But enough about me, how have you been as of late?" Rin suddenly asked, and Saigo could almost feel his eyebrow twitching. _Here we go._

"Quite well, actually. A bit bored by the growing number of petitioners, but still going at it," he proclaimed, daring her to question his words.

"That is good to hear. With your age, I had feared that rulership would have begun to take its toll," she said. _Damn, she's not even being subtle about it._

"I may be old, but I still got quite a few decades left in me," he stated, which did little to move Rin.

"That may be so, but many of your nobles are becoming worried by the lack of an heir to the throne. If anything were to happen to you without choosing your successor, what will happen to this country?" she persisted.

"Then I suppose it's in everyone's best interest that nothing happen to me before that, don't you think?" he inquired of her. Saigo knew what she wanted, or rather what her father wanted. They wanted him to formally acknowledge Rin as his heir. But as long as that oaf still lived, his daughter would never sit on the throne, Saigo was going to make sure of that.

"I suppose so," Rin finally acknowledged, her once happy façade melting away into one of nonchalance, a sign that she was trying to hide her true feelings on the matter. "With your permission, I'd like to return to my quarters. It's been a long day, and I'm in need of some sleep,"

"Of course, have a good night's rest," barely had those words left his lips before she had stormed out with as much dignity as she could maintain. _Finally,_ was the only thought that came to Saigo as he rose from his throne and made a beeline for his private quarter. Rin had at least brought up one good suggestion, and that was a good night's rest after a trying day. Alas, he did not make it far before he was accosted by one of his underlings.

"My lord, there's something you need to see," Helgyn, his chief scientist and medical expert, spoke urgently as she shouldered her way past Saigo's guards.

"Is it important, Helgyn? Because I'm tired and hungry and just wants some peace and quiet right about now," Saigo said as he rubbed his eyes. Negotiations could be a real taxing event, and his niece could be almost a nightmare these days.

"It's very important, my lord. It's about that boy, Gherib, you asked me to take care of," she answered. It took a moment for his tired mind to dig up the necessary memories to figure out what she was talking about.

"Oh, right, that kid. Lead the way then," he mumbled with Helgyn swiftly turning around and leading the way deeper into the castle. When they arrived at her study, Saigo found the place the same chaotic mess as the last time he visited, with the only different element being a young child waddling about. But he saw no sign of this Gherib.

"Well, where's the boy?" Saigo demanded, seeing no signs of the infant that Nazim had brought in.

"Uhm, you're looking at him," Helgyn answered as she pointed at the child that he previously dismissed. A moment of silence followed.

"Is this your attempt at humor, Helgyn? If it is, you've really got to work on it," Saigo deadpanned, not buying it for a second. It had only been a few weeks since he last saw the infant, no way had he grown that much in so short a time.

"I can assure you, it's no joke. That is the same child," Helgyn persisted, and Saigo was but a breath away from calling her a lunatic. That was when the child looked right at him, and Saigo no longer doubted her words. Those eyes, those same grey eyes watching him with an intelligence beyond his years. Kneeling before the child, he looked deeply into his eyes, just as he looked back with just as much intensity.

"Who are you, little one?" he asked. The child did not answer, but somehow he got the feeling that he understood him.

"You're different, not like anything else seen before," Saigo continued. "You're no ghoul, that much is certain, but neither are you a human," here, he raised a hand to gently cup the child's face.

"You did not come from this world, that much is certain. So where did you come from, and why did you come?" by this point, Saigo was talking mostly to himself. All the while, the child merely stared at him. Finally, Saigo relinquished his grip and turned to his subordinates.

"Arrange for the child to have his own room, and put him under 24 hour's surveillance," he ordered as he strode away. That child may have been an enigma, but he had more important matters to deal with still. Like preventing a potential war on the horizon.

* * *

That very same night, things took a very unexpected turn. Saigo had been asleep in his quarters at the time, dreaming of happier times, when the alarm had been sounded. Decades old instincts had him leaping out of his bed and halfway through dressing when Nazim burst through the door.

"My lord, introducers in the castle!" he hastily warned, his koukaku already out and dripping with blood.

"How many?" Saigo asked as he stormed out of the room, well over a dozen guards falling in line behind him.

"Only a dozen, assassins more than likely. We've already killed three of them, the rest have scattered across the castle trying to escape," Nazim reported, just as Ryuju came running around a corner, a pair of freshly decapitated heads hanging from his belt.

"Why the hell did no one tell me we had visitors? Fuckers came barging in while I was having some late night fun," he grumbled as he fell in line with his liege lord.

"Any that managed to escape?" Saigo simply asked, not really all that interest in Ryuju's hobbies.

"Nope, none that I ran into anyway," Ryuju answered, ripping a cheek lose from his trophies to idly munch on. The next few minutes were a hectic race back and forth across the castle, hunting down all the assassins. Until finally, there was but one.

"Where is he?" Saigo called out as he come across a group of wounded guards.

"He's headed towards the research wing," one of them answered, and Saigo wasted no time rushing down the corridor.

"Research wing? Isn't that where we keep that weird kid?" Ryuju asked.

"Doesn't matter, not as long as we catch the intruder," Saigo answered. Soon enough they arrived, and found a whole squad of warriors gathered outside a room.

"Lord Fueguchi," their leader greeted with a salute as he approached, but Saigo quickly took notice of their unease.

"The intruder is inside?" he asked while pointing at the open door.

"Yes, my lord, but…" the sergeant began hesitantly, suddenly looking like he wanted to be anywhere else but there.

"But what?" Saigo pressed, eyes narrowed in suspicion as the sergeant refused to meet his eyes.

"It's probably best if you see it for yourself," he meekly answered, gesturing to the door while stepping aside. Cautious, Saigo stepped forward and peered inside. What greeted him was a charnel house.

"What the fuck?" he muttered in disbelief as he stepped inside, eyes taking in the blood and entrails splattered on every wall inside.

"Holy shit, and I thought I was the crazy one here," Ryuju commented in approval as he entered.

"What could have done this?" Nazim asked from the rear. They found their answer seated in the middle of the room, idly playing around with the intruder's bloodstained head. A child, no older than a few months, but one with the body of one five years old at the very least, and he was drenched from head to toe in blood. And he did not look the least bit troubled by that fact.

"The fuck? Are you telling me that the space kid killed a full grown ghoul assassin?" Ryuju burst out, clearly having a hard time believing what his eyes were telling him. Saigo really could not blame him on that.

"There must be another explanation," Nazim muttered, but Saigo no longer cared about any of that as he kneeled before the child. Feeling the eyes upon him, the child turned and met Saigo's eyes. And there it was again, that spark of intelligence and awareness that he had seen before. He knew then that there was no other explanation, that this child had in fact did what everyone would say was impossible. A smile suddenly spread across his face.

"I don't think we were properly introduced before. I'm Saigo Fueguchi, a pleasure to make your acquaintance," he greeted as he extended a hand in greeting. He could feel the looks from his underlings on his back.

"What the hell are you doing, boss? He's just a little pipsqueak, ain't no way he understand what you're saying," Ryuju dismissed, and was promptly silenced when young Gherib slowly extended his own hand to hesitantly shake hands with Saigo. It made his smile grow even wider.

"I have a feeling you and I will become great friends," Saigo stated.

"Yes," Gherib answered, slowly and haltingly as if trying to memorize the word. Satisfaction all but oozed off of Saigo.

* * *

Come morning, the whole court found itself gathered in the throne room, awaiting their liege lord. Standing just beyond the doors leading inside, Saigo was contend to keep them waiting, observing the lot of them with the aid of dozens of hidden cameras and a portable screen. Technology like this was growing rarer with every year that passed, and he doubted that many within the throne room even remembered it still existed.

"Observe, Gherib. See how they scurry about when they believe their master's gaze is elsewhere," he spoke as he kneeled next to the child by his side, presenting the screen for the child to observe.

"She trouble," Gherib said as he pointed at Rin, who was currently in deep conversation with the Master of Treasury. That was worth looking into deeper at a later date.

"Right you are. Make sure you always keep a close eye on her," Saigo warned while taking note of how close some of his more outspoken vassals were. Mayhaps a purge was prudent in the near future? Food for thought.

"But enough about that, let us not keep the court waiting any longer," quick as that, a servant came and retrieved the screen while Saigo strode towards the doors, Gherib dutifully following behind him. As the doors swung open, every set of eyes swung towards them. But Saigo gave no indication that he was aware of their looks, gaze firmly locked ahead on his throne as he strode inside, and the crowd dutifully parted before him. Barely five steps in, and the murmurs began as most of the attention shifted from Saigo to the young Gherib. Sparing a quick glance at the child, Saigo found Gherib surprisingly composed despite quickly becoming the center of attention. An impressive feat, one few children could hope to replicate.

"Thank you all for coming," Saigo began once he reached his throne, surveying his subjects with critical eyes. When no one spoke up, Saigo seated himself as he continued.

"As most of you are aware, there was a minor breach in security last night. Rest assured though that the assailants were swiftly dealt with, and no true damage was inflicted upon us," even as he saw the relief spreading amongst the court, he could also see the curiosity about the child at his side growing stronger. Understandable, few had the privilege of standing next to his throne at such a large gathering. In fact, he could see Rin glaring murderously at Gherib.

"Now onto other matters. I would like to introduce young Gherib here. He's to be my ward for the foreseeable future. Treat him with the same courtesy as you would any other member of the royal family," and that announcement had the murmurs returning with a vengeance. And if Rin's glare had been murderous before, now it looked like she was trying to will Gherib to burst into flames with her glare alone. _Good, see where you belong in the order of things and remember that you exist only because I allow it._ Saigo knew one thing with certainty, the next few decades were going to be very interesting indeed.


	3. Chapter 3: What am I?

**Chapter 3: What am I?**

"Dodge left!" the shout came, and Gherib dived to the left to avoid getting cut to ribbons from the clawed attack.

"Dodge right!" and then he dived back the way he came as the attack came from a different direction.

"Dodge right!" followed by another attack that forced him further back.

"Dodge left!" on instinct, Gherib was about to do as ordered, but then he saw that the attack was coming from the left, and so he stopped right in his tracks and leaped to the right, the attack passing but a hair's breadth from his scalp. Gherib quickly put as much distance between him and his opponent, only to find said opponent at ease with his koukaku slinking back from whence it came.

"You said left," Gherib accused with a disgruntled look, one which had his opponent smiling in amusement.

"And I suppose you expect that in real life, your opponents will tell you where he will strike next," Nazim commented.

"This isn't a real fight, this is supposed to be a spar," Gherib argued, which had Nazim shaking his head in disappointment.

"One meant to prepare you for all real fight. Besides, what are you complaining about anyway? You saw through my deception and dodged my attack, didn't you?" that inquiry brought an even bigger scowl to Gherib's face.

"That's not the point. It was supposed to be a fair fight," he grumbled, arms crossed in disgruntlement.

"Fair fight? Is that some new delicacy from the frontiers?" a third voice joined in the conversation, right before the owner of said voice waltzed in like he owned the whole courtyard.

"Ryuju, don't you have better things to do than watch me trash the pipsqueak?" Nazim asked, ignoring the look he received from his student.

"Probably, didn't really stick around long enough to find out," Ryuju answered with a lazy smirk.

"Aren't you supposed to be an elite hunter, one of the most skilled and dedicated in service to lord Fueguchi?" Gherib deadpanned.

"Your point?" was Ryuju's nonchalant answer as he found a nice spot in the shade to take a nap in. Both Gherib and Nazim knew better than to dissuade their friend's lazy attitude.

"Anyway, let's continue," Nazim suddenly ordered as his koukaku grew back out, and Gherib crouched into a fighting stance. At only one year old, he was just an amalgamation of contradictions. Age-wise, he should be nothing but a toddler, yet he was already as tall as a child of twelve, with both the speed and strength to go toe-to-toe with fully trained ghouls, not to mention the vocabulary of a fully grown man. His unbelievable physical prowess was now thoroughly put to the test in these sparring matches with the very best that served Fueguchi. So far, only Nazim had retained his position as Gherib's superior. And so they clashed again, with Gherib yet again finding himself just barely able to stay ahead of his trainer's attacks. They kept this lethal dance up for hours, until Nazim was drenched in sweat and breathing heavily. Yet despite it all, Gherib barely looked winded at all.

"Getting tired there, old man?" he taunted, to which Nazim only laughed.

"I'll start taking your taunts seriously the day you actually land a hit on me, brat," he countered, right before a gust of wind blew in across the field. For the very briefest of moments, Gherib's vision turned red as his own hair blew right into his eyes, and that was all the time Nazim needed. By the time Gherib had pushed the blood red hair out of the way, he found Nazim's knee slamming into his stomach with enough force to knock him into the air, where a fist proceeded to break his nose with a punch that sent him careening across the field and crashing into a nearby pond with a loud splash and an undignified yelp. Ryuju was quickly rolling on the ground laughing like a lunatic.

"HAHAHAHAHAAAA! Oh man, that was fucking priceless!" he managed to squeeze out between bouts of hysterical laughter. Gherib meanwhile was busy climbing out of the pond, drenched from head to toe with a less than friendly scowl on his face.

"Ha ha, very funny, asshole," he grumbled while working on getting the water out of his clothes, completely untroubled by the fact that he had just been punched with the kind of force that would have crippled and maybe even killed a normal human being. In fact, one quick push of the finger, and his nose was already reset and well on its way to heal.

"To be honest though, I think that look suits you," Nazim pointed out, the tiniest of smiles growing on his face.

"You're more than welcome to share this look with me if you want," Gherib offered with an innocent smile.

"No thanks, I'd trust my clothes and dignity to you about as far as I'd trust Ryuju with my daughter," Nazim answered with a laugh, ignoring the indignant "oi!" in the background.

"You don't have a daughter," Gherib deadpanned.

"Doesn't change the facts," Nazim countered with a smile. Any further banter was put on hold though as a messenger came running towards them.

"My lords, forgive this intrusion, but his grace has asked for young Gherib's presence in his personal solar," he hurriedly spoke.

"Well then, I guess the fun's over for today. You better get going before Fueguchi get grumpy," Nazim said, and Gherib was quick to scamper off towards Fueguchi's solar.

"You might want to consider a change of clothes first! Unless you want appear before lord Fueguchi looking like a drowned pet!" Ryuju called after him, which had Gherib deviating his course towards his personal chambers. Would not do to appear before the king in soaking wet clothes. Running through the corridors, soldiers and servants alike parted before him with either deep bows or slight inclinations. Gherib barely paid them any attention, having long since grown used to their presence. Once at his room, he just threw the doors open and ran towards the closet. To describe his room would largely be a waste of time, as it was of an extremely spartan style with only the basic necessities present. As a ward of Fueguchi, he could have had a lavish suite fit for royalty, but Gherib preferred simplicity over style.

A fact represented in his clothes. Though made from the finest material available, they were a bland mix of grey and black in color with barely anything resembling decorations. A quick use of a towel, followed by tying his hair up in a horsetail, and Gherib was ready to meet lord Fueguchi. Rather than run this time though, he calmly walked towards his destination. Only one year old, and already he understood the value of appearance. It would have sent the wrong impression to have a ward of the crown constantly running around like a hooligan. Courtly etiquette was everything, as was constantly hammered into his skull. And those etiquettes were put to the ultimate test when he rounded a corner and came face to face with the one person in the world he really did not want to meet.

"My lady," he greeted the lady Rin with a small bow, as a sign of her superior status. Rin for her part barely so much as glanced at him.

"Gherib, you seem to be in quite the hurry," she observed in what was supposed to be a dispassionate voice, but Gherib noticed the way her jaw tightened and how she was careful to hide her hands behind her back.

"Yes, lord Fueguchi has summoned me, and it would be ill manners to keep him waiting," Gherib answered. A small vein became visible on her brow all of a sudden.

"Ah yes, my uncle is a man best not left waiting for too long. He is a fickle king after all, who grants privileges to the most… unexpected of guests," anyone with half a brain could tell she wanted to use a less flattering term than just "unexpected".

"It is not my place to question his grace's decisions," Gherib tried to deflect, sensing a trap in the makings.

"True enough. It is good to see that the new generations of humans are raised with the proper respect to their superiors," she spoke with a condescending smirk. Gherib suddenly felt the strong desire to rip that smile off her face and shove it down her throat until she choked on it.

"If there is nothing else you require, my lady, I fear that I have kept his grace waiting long enough," he tried to weasel his way out of this conversation, hoping to get going before his temper got the best of him and he did something highly regrettable.

"Oh, don't let me hold you up. Run along now, little human, and tend to your master's needs," she dismissed him with an imperious wave of her hand before she stepped around him and kept walking, her two guards being less graceful as they all but shoved him aside to keep up with their mistress. In that moment, it was as if time slowed to a crawl for Gherib, his eyes picking up every miniscule detail of his opponents. A thousand strategies that he had never heard of before flowed through his mind, and a thousand different fighting moves that neither Nazim nor Ryuju ever taught him came to him all of a sudden. In the span of a heartbeat, Gherib had calculated at least fifty four different ways he could incapacitate both guards and sixty two ways he could kill them.

His instincts compelled him to act, to kill, to purge the xenos, to protect mankind to- wait WHAT?! Suddenly back to his senses again, Gherib stopped himself just as he had taken a threatening step towards the trio. Luckily, their backs were turned and so walked on, blissfully unaware of the bullet they just dodged. _What the frakk was that? Since when do I care about the fate of humans?_ Gherib would never admit it out loud to anyone, but his near outburst unnerved him. More than just how unexpected it had been, but also how right it had felt, like it was a natural thing for him to kill anyone not human. As if it was what he had been born to do.

But he was getting sidetracked again, lord Fueguchi was still waiting. He could ponder these questions at a later date, when he had the time for it. So he took off down the corridor yet again, dodging and weaving around servants until he came upon a great wooden door, guarded by a pair of ghouls standing on each side. As part of the inner sanctum of the great castle, which was composed entirely of metal, this wooden door looked horribly out of place with its surroundings. But Gherib never dared raise any questions on the matter. Who was he to question his lord's taste in architecture?

"I have been summoned by lord Fueguchi," Gherib introduced. One guard barely reacted beyond glancing down at him before resuming his vigil, the other one quickly slipped inside Fueguchi's solar. It did not take him long to return.

"You may enter," he said as he stepped aside. Once Gherib was inside, the door was closed behind him.

"Ah, Gherib, so nice of you to join us! I trust you are in good health," lord Fueguchi inquired from his seat behind his desk, stacks of papers towering on either side of him.

"I am well enough, my lord. Apologies for my delay, but your summons came during my practice session," Gherib explained himself with a respectful bow, but Fueguchi just waved it away.

"Nothing to worry about, the fault is mine alone for not waiting until your session had ended," he easily dismissed, which had Gherib squirming ever so slightly where he stood. It always felt strange to him, the familiarity afforded to him by a man so far above him in stature.

"But enough about that, I summoned you here to meet someone special, an old ally and childhood friend of mine, lady Olga Valdenhyde," Fueguchi suddenly interrupted his thoughts as he gestured towards someone standing to his right. Gherib had been aware of their presence the instant he had stepped inside, but he had evaluated them as harmless and not paid them any attention. Now that his grace had indicated that he should, Gherib took the time to observe them. First one that stood out was the fully grown woman, dressed in archaic armor with a helmet shaped like a human skull tucked under her arm. Why she bothered with such a get-up when any ghoul worth their kagune could tear right through it like wet paper, he honestly could not fathom.

The face that stared back at him was one of wild and passionate emotions, with messy hair as black as a raven's feathers, eyes that seemed to twinkle with mischief, and a lopsided grin that almost seemed to be constantly glued to her face. All in all, not what you would normally expect, especially with the way lord Fueguchi seemed to hold her in such high esteem.

"So, this is the wonder child I've heard so much about. So far, you're living up to your reputation, but first looks ain't everything. I'm looking forward to putting you to the test," she stated, her playful grin turning a bit predatory for just an instant.

"Putting me to the test?" Gherib repeated dubiously.

"She's agreed to be your personal tutor in matters of warfare and statecraft, a task I would trust to no one but my very best and my most loyal," Fueguchi announced.

"Still the shameless flatterer, I see," she commented in good humor before turning her attention back to Gherib. "But he's right about one thing. I'm the very best, and I also expect the very best from my students. I have no time for slackers and pushovers, you're going to excel at my lessons or you're out," it was a threat as much as it was a challenge, and Gherib would not back down.

"Fortunate then that I never learned what the word 'failure' means," he cheekily countered with a bit of an exaggerated bow at her. She responded by throwing her head back and laughing.

"Oh, I like you already," she commented with a huge grin before she turned her attention to someone who had been standing behind her this entire time. "What say you, short stuff? Think you can match wits with this one?"

This prompted the unknown individual to step forward. Shorter than Gherib, and still with a bit of baby fat clinging to his cheeks, the miniature version of what had to be his mother looked upon Gherib with a childlike fascination.

"Gherib, this is my son, Bernhart Valdenhyde. He'll be joining our lessons once he's old enough," she introduced him, confirming Gherib's suspicions.

"A pleasure to make your acquaintance. I hope we will achieve a fruitful partnership in the future," Gherib said as he offered a hand to shake, just as he had been taught to. Unfortunately, he had failed to take into consideration that adults and children had completely different behavior patterns.

"Why are your eyes weird?" the child asked bluntly, an action which utterly floored Gherib.

"That was rude!" his mother admonished him with a slap to the back of his head.

"But mom, they're weird! They look like human eyes!" he whined petulantly.

"We'll discuss proper manners later," Olga hissed at her son before turning back towards Fueguchi. "My deepest apologies, your grace. He's still young, and hasn't quite learned how to properly behave,"

"Such is the prerogative of children, I fear. To apologize for that is as futile as apologizing for the air you breathe," Fueguchi assured her.

"Was there anything else that you required of me, your grace?" Gherib inquired.

"No, that will be all for the moment. Do try to get some rest, my boy, as your lessons with her will begin tomorrow at first light," Fueguchi said.

"And trust me, you're gonna need every second of sleep with what I've got planned," Olga teased with the look of a predator savoring its meal to come.

"Thank you, my lord, my lady," and with another polite bow, Gherib retreated from the solar, his mind in utter turmoil. As he rejoined the bustling of guards and servants, his focus changed. Where before he had ignored them, this time he gave each and every one of them his undivided attention. He watched the ghouls, walking tall with backs straight and their kakugans on full and constant display. Nothing like his own eyes. He watched the humans, scurrying about with hunched backs to avoid attention and with the multitude of different colored eyes locked onto the floor. Eyes that were just like his own.

Something churned in him, something basic and aggressive that demanded blood. Watching humans in such a subservient position made his blood boil, made him want to lash out and destroy the ghouls. But why? Why did he care about humans? What had they ever done to deserve his protection? Was it because he looked like one? Because he behaved like one? Gherib did not know the answer to these question, and it unnerved him. Not frighten him, nothing seemed to be able to do that, but unnerve him.

This was not the first time questions like these had plagued him, and he doubted it would be the last time, but this time was different. That boy had shaken him up more than usual, his honest question asked in complete ignorance of politics or social etiquette had hit a sensitive spot he had hoped to have been rid of long ago. Gherib was not a ghoul, he knew that well enough. But then, what was he? Was he actually human? Was that the reason why he constantly felt the need to unite them against the ghouls? His need for answers drove to a course he had never done before. Spying a lone servant making her way down an empty corridor, Gherib quickly moved to intercept her.

"M-My lord!" the startled servant burst out before she seemed to remember her manners and bowed deeply before him while doing everything to avoid eye contact. That would not do.

"Look me in the eyes," he ordered, and the servant reluctantly raised her quivering eyes up to meet his own. What he saw disgusted him.

"Why do I care about protecting you? You're weak, terrified, unable to even defend yourself, and yet I feel a sense of kinship with you. Why is that?!" he snarled at her, and the servant instantly went down on all fours, weeping like a newborn babe.

"Forgive me, my lord! I don't know the answer! Please have mercy on this insignificant worm! I'll do better next time, I promise, I won't disappoint ever again!" she begged of him, and a sense of pity now competed with his disgust.

"Just go, and don't ever speak of this meeting with anyone else. Understood?" he ordered of her, and she looked she was but a moment away from kissing his feet.

"Thank, master! You show more kindness and mercy than this lowly vermin deserves!" she thanked him over and over before fleeing as fast as she could without making it apparent she was really fleeing. Probably afraid that he would suddenly change his mind and have her dragged back. Not that he actually cared as he lamented on this meeting. As expected, it yielded nothing of value, except for a deeper sense of loathing. _She was willing to trade away her very dignity to survive, begging and groveling at my feet like a dog cowering from its angry master. And I'm supposed to protect that thing?_

Trudging along back to his room, Gherib was haunted by these depressing thoughts that would not leave him in peace. Why fight for creatures that cannot even fight for themselves? Why betray the people that had sheltered and raised him? The answers to these questions should be obvious, yet that instinctual feeling would not go away. Not even as night fell and he crept under the blankets did these insidious thoughts leave him be. Twisting and turning, he tried to distract himself with sparring reviews and studied battle strategies, but none worked to banish his doubts. Finally, he decided that sleep would not come to him, so he rose again, threw on some simple garments, and began wandering the castle hallways.

Barely a single servant passed him by, and most of the guards only gave him a faint nod of acknowledgment as he passed by. Gherib cared for no one of that as he made his way towards one of the highest towers. He had seen human servants pant with exhaustion after only a single trip up those stairs, but Gherib did not even feel the faintest winded once he reached the top. There was no guard present at the moment, and so Gherib could enjoy a moment of peace as he leaned over the battlement to peer down at the city below the walls.

The moon barely managed to peek around the thick clouds tonight, and yet Gherib could still see as clearly as if it was daytime. He could see the trio of ghouls patrolling down the streets, he could see the human smuggler selling stolen goods on a filthy street corner, he could see a drunk ghoul feasting on what must have been a human whore right out in the open. He could see all of that, and much more, with the kind of clarity others would need a binocular for. Such a shame that those eyes could not find clarity to his own questions.

"Thought I'd find you up here," lord Fueguchi remarked as he came to stand next to him.

"Your grace," Gherib greeted with a bow, having heard his approach long before he saw him.

"You seem troubled, child," Fueguchi began while leaning against the battlements.

"Personal matters, nothing that you need to concern yourself with, my lord," Gherib tried to tell him, but Fueguchi just waved his words aside.

"Nonsense. You're a ward of my household, it would be highly irresponsible of me if I did not look after your well-being," he explained, his eyes roaming up towards the skies. "You're troubled by what the child said, correct?"

"… Yes. I've always known that I'm not a ghoul, I've even accepted that. But what if… what if I'm actually human? What if I'm the very thing you rule and oppress?" Gherib felt foolish to confess his troubles like this, but he could not help himself here. He just felt the need to vent it all at someone willing to listen.

"I can't truly give you an answer that will satisfy you, son. Even now, we don't really know what you are or where you're from. But I do know one thing; you're not human," Fueguchi's statement had Gherib staring at him in bewilderment.

"Humans are weak and cowardly creatures, driven only by their own greed and irrationality. Were they to be left to their own devices, they would degrade into nothing better than animals, tearing each other apart for the most basic scraps. Humanity as a whole is nothing but an evolutionary dead end, a failed species destined to serve as our source of food. That is not what you are, and never let anyone tell you differently," but the answer did not satisfy Gherib, not wholly at least.

"How can you be so sure of that?"

"Humans do not fall from the skies as babies, they don't have the strength or courage to stand up to ghouls, and they most certainly do not mature as fast as you've done. Do not trouble yourself with thoughts about humans, for they are beneath the likes of you and me," having offered his piece of advice, Fueguchi turned and walked away.

"Your grace, if I may…" Gherib began. Fueguchi said nothing, but he stopped walking and waited. "If I'm not a ghoul, nor a human, then what am I?" silence followed his question, until lord Fueguchi gave him a small smile over his shoulder.

"Piece of advice, kid. Don't focus on what you are, focus on what you want to be," he answered, and then he was gone. Gherib now stood alone, staring at the staircase. Then he cast his eyes back out across the city, deep in thought. _What I want to be,_ he mused to himself. What did he want actually? Power? Fame? Recognition? Now that he thought about it, he did feel oddly compelled to make a name for himself, almost like it was in his very nature to do so. But to simply step up and take charge without a reason felt almost… hollow to him. What good was power without a purpose to it? That was still worth pondering about. But as he cast his eyes across the city yet again, watching the pitiful humans scurrying away like startled rats whenever a ghoul strolled by, he knew one thing with certainty.

He was not going to waste his time with vermin like those.


	4. Chapter 4: Never mess with a Primarch

**Chapter 4: Never mess with a Primarch**

Another attack came from the left, which Gherib dodged under while his leg lashed out to send the attacker bouncing across the courtyard as his right hand firmly grasped the rinkaku trying to ensnare him. One vicious tug, and the owner of said rinkaku was sent soaring through the air, straight into Gherib's waiting fist with enough force that teeth were sent flying. Another ghoul thought to take advantage this as he leaped at Gherib, a hammer-shaped koukaku ready for an overhead slam that never got to land as suddenly Gherib was in front of him, sweeping his legs out from underneath him before an axe kick came down on his head.

Razor sharp crystalline projectiles flew through the area once occupied by Gherib, and before the ukaku wielding ghoul could reacquire her target, Gherib's fist slammed into her stomach with enough force to double her over before she was lifted overhead and hurled like a javelin at yet another ghoul, sending both of them crashing into the ground in a messy heap. Something suddenly grabbed onto Gherib's leg, and he found himself soaring through the air as that something hurled him towards the walls like a ragdoll. With practiced ease, Gherib twisted in the air and crashed into the wall boot first, leaving cracks in the stone from the force before he launched himself back into the fray. A bikaku came right at him, and he slipped right under it, sliding across the ground on his knees before coming back up with a haymaker that launched the ghoul off the ground.

It was like the world had slowed to a crawl to Gherib's eyes as he grabbed the ghoul's leg and slammed her back down into the ground, right before dodging under a bladed koukaku and sidestepping a barrage of ukaku projectiles while slapping aside a hooked rinkaku before kicking aside yet another ghoul as he caught an ukaku that got too close and dragged him into a head-butt that knocked the ghoul out cold. He leaped into the air as five different attacks came at him from every direction, and watched with almost bored apathy as six rinkaku tentacles raced towards him. He twisted aside to avoid the first two, then planted his boot on the third and used it as a springboard to launch himself over the ghouls below him, straight towards the rinkaku ghoul. He took the minuscule fraction of a second to savor her stupefied look before his boot slammed into her face. As she fell over with a busted face, Gherib landed gracefully on his feet with no issue, no sign of strain or damage on his physique.

"That's enough!" Olga's authoritative voice suddenly boomed across the courtyard, and those ghouls still standing promptly collapsed to the ground with relieved groans. Gherib for his part turned to face the ruthless woman as she advanced towards him.

"I take it I have succeeded with the training," he greeted with a confident smile.

"Hardly, you failed so fucking hard it's not even funny," Olga countered as she stared up at him. Five years and already he was towering above everyone around him. Not that it did him any good in this occasion as he gaped at his tutor.

"What?! But I was beating my opponents! In record time, no less!" he argued, which brought that wicked smile of hers to her lips.

"And since when did I tell you that your training consisted of beating them?" she asked of him as she pointed a finger towards the lone sparring partner that had not engaged in the fight. In fact, now that Gherib thought about it, he had disengaged as soon as Gherib appeared in the courtyard, making a run for the doors without even trying to fight him.

"I told these guys that if they managed to keep you from getting to young Jonas here, they would receive double payment and tomorrow off to spend it however they felt like," Olga explained, hands on her hips as she stared him down. Rhetorically speaking, at least. Now that Gherib thought back to the fight, they had constantly put themselves between him and this lone guard, fighting with almost suicidal frenzy to keep Gherib's attention away from him.

"So the training consisted of me getting to him?" Gherib questioned, a frown if displeasure growing on his brow.

"Exactly, and you failed. Miserably, might I add," Olga proclaimed. It rankled Gherib more than he cared to admit.

"And how was I supposed to know that? You only told me to come here for training, you never gave any details," Gherib argued.

"And rather than do the smart thing of hanging back and properly assess the situation, you charged headlong into it like crazy berserker. You rarely get all the necessary information in a war, leaving you in the dark. The smart ones observes and analyses before engaging, the dumb ones charges headlong in and dies," Olga lectured. Gherib suddenly felt he was just a year old again.

"Wise words, old friend," another voice suddenly cut in, and everyone promptly bowed in subservience.

"Your grace, a surprise to see you out at this hour," Olga greeted as Saigo stepped into the training yard.

"What, you think I'm getting too old to be up this early?" Saigo questioned the disapproving frown on his brow a stark contrast to the twinkle of merriment in his eyes.

"You said it, your grace, not I," Olga countered with a lazy smile, which had Saigo openly laughing.

"Alright, you sly old hag, you've had your fun. Now onto more important matters," and like that, all merriment left Saigo's weathered face. "I've just received word about a human uprising in our eastern provinces. Small scale so far, but it could grow worse if not suppressed fast enough,"

"I'll head out at first light, my lord. Those vermin won't be enjoying their moment of bravado for long," Olga declared as she pounded a fist to her chest.

"As much as I appreciate your enthusiasm, old friend, I actually planned to send Gherib to deal with this," and that admission had every pair of eyes turn towards the very much surprised Gherib.

"Me? But your grace, I have never even left the capital before," Gherib answered, but Saigo merely smiled at his hesitancy.

"Making this a perfect opportunity for you to go out and see more of the land. Fear not though, you won't be going alone. I'll be sending Nazim and twenty of my guards with you. Think of it as a learning experience," Saigo explained. Gherib was still uncertain, felt too sudden to him. But who was he to refuse the order of the king?

"As you wish, your grace," Gherib accepted with another bow.

"I understand this must be a daunting task for you, but I have every confidence in your abilities. Still, I would like you to have this as well," upon Saigo's command, one of his guards stepped forward with a greatsword that was offered to Gherib. "It's forged from the same metal that our citadel is made out of. Few things on this world can stand up to a blade like that,"

"I thank you for this gift. I'll make sure to put it to good use," Gherib assured him as he accepted the sword. _Should not be too bad. After all, what's the worst that could happen?_

* * *

"So they went up into the mountains?" Gherib questioned the local sheriff, a gruff old ghoul that looked like he preferred to shew bones over meat.

"Yeah, fuckers made a break for it well over a week ago. Haven't seen neither hide nor hair of them ever since," the sheriff answered. Calm and collected on the outside, Gherib was highly annoyed by this on the inside. Three weeks on the road, only to find that the target had left long before you arrived. Still, no point going back empty-handed now.

"How many were there?"

"I'd reckon about a hundred of them. Be warned though, if you're going to kill them, you might as well just let the bastards go. Nothing good ever comes out of those mountains," an amusing statement as far as Gherib was concerned, but he kept that to himself.

"Thanks for the consideration, but we'll be fine," Gherib answered before returning to his squad, who were lounging about at the local inn waiting for orders.

"Well?" Nazim was quick to ask once Gherib stepped with hearing distance.

"The bastards' fled into the mountains, so we're going in after them," Gherib answered. Nazim was quick to cast an uncomfortable look towards the high mountains looming on the horizon before turning back to Gherib.

"I don't know. Maybe it would be better to just let them go? Not like they're likely to come back now. Those mountains are evil," was it Gherib's imagination, or did he detect a hint of fear in Nazim's voice?

"Didn't take you for the superstitious kind, old man," Gherib teased, but was met with stoic silence.

"I often forget, for all your brilliance and ability to read up on any subject in a matter of hours, you never once spent a second voluntarily studying our legends and folklores," Nazim remarked.

"What can I say? Fairy tales and bedtime stories never caught my interest. What use would I have of old legends conjured up by superstitious fools too ignorant to find the real answers? Better to focus your attention on things that matter," Gherib argued. Nazim just shook his head.

"Why do I get the feeling you're gonna come to regret those words one day?"

* * *

Rain. Of course it had to rain. As Gherib and his squad pushed ever deeper into the mountainous valleys, the rain constantly beat down on them, drenching clothes and turning even the slightest steep into a mud slide. It was truly aggravating to Gherib, doubly so as it erased the tracks of their quarry. But Gherib noticed that despite the conditions, none of the soldiers under his command uttered a single complaint. Most would have dismissed it was the effects of iron discipline, but Gherib knew better. They were worried, scared even. The whole mountain had them so spooked that they dared not make a single noise.

Gherib had scoffed at their anxiety back at the town, tuning out any stories and warnings they tried to give him. It would take more than the stories of frightened old folks to drive him off. But there was something strange, something uncomfortable gnawing at him. Casting his eyes skyward, he saw naught but the stormy clouds and the sheer canyon cliffs rising up on either side of him. At their top, great stones jutted out like grasping fingers, as if the entire canyon was the palm of a great monster waiting to close in around them.

Gherib quickly dismissed those silly thoughts. There was nothing but water and stone around him, nothing unnatural about that. Still, he could not shake that uncomfortable feeling, the feeling of eyes watching him. Yet again he peered upwards, but saw nothing new.

"Gherib, we should make camp for the night, the squad is exhausted," Nazim pointed out. Gherib took one look at their ragged appearance and reluctantly nodded.

"Very well, let's find some shelter then. Hopefully the weather will clear up soon enough," Gherib announced, and his squad swiftly began fanning out in search of shelter. Soon enough, the whole squad was nestled up to the cliff edge, a few rocks jutting out above them to create the most basic of shelter.

"Doesn't seem like it's going to abate any time soon," Nazim grumbled as he glared at the sky.

"So it would seem," Gherib mumbled, his eyes more on his surroundings. That nagging feeling would not go away, and it was putting him on edge.

"You should relax a bit. A little rain won't stop us for long," Nazim suddenly said.

"I know that," Gherib tried to defend.

"Could have fooled me. Look, I know this is completely new to you, and I can't imagine the pressure you're under, but try to have a little faith in you and your squad. We'll get through this, no problem at all," Nazim encouraged, and Gherib just nodded his head halfheartedly.

"Of course I know that," he answered. Having said his piece, Nazim simply nodded and walked back into the camp, leaving Gherib alone to stare into the raging storm. Still he looked for anything out of place, and still he found nothing. It was terribly… vexing for him, who had always prided himself on his sharp senses.

"I hate this mountain," he said. Finally, with a last annoyed grunt, he turned back around and joined the rest of his team. Above him, a hooded and cloaked figure scampered away and vanished into the storm.

* * *

Hours later, and the storm seemed to have abated, allowing Gherib's team to marsh on. The ground was slippery, but they pushed on deeper into the mountain canyons. Wet and miserable, they would not give up this close to their quarry. And they were drawing closer.

"Another camp up ahead," the scout announced, and sure enough, they came across the remnants of another camp.

"Bastards' not even trying to hide their tracks," Nazim spat, and Gherib could not help but agree. The storm should have wiped away all traces, forcing Gherib's team to search blindly. But their quarry had done such a sloppy job covering their tracks that even a blind man could have followed them.

"At this rate, we'll have them in our bellies before the day's out," one member boasted, which brought out laughter from the rest. Gherib was not as joyful as his team. Something was wrong here, he could feel it. This was just too easy. In fact, it was too much like a trap.

"Keep moving forward, but keep your eyes peeled," Gherib ordered as the squad moved forward. It may have been a trap, it probably was a trap, but he was not giving in that easily.

"Something ahead of us," the call went up, and every kagune was out and on display in the blink of an eye. Squinting, Gherib could indeed see something ahead. Someone was leaning against a rock, unmoving even as eleven kagunes were pointed squarely at him.

"The fucker's asleep or something?" one asked.

"Could be a trap," another commented.

"All of you, hold your position," Gherib ordered as he drew his sword and stepped forward.

"What do you think you're doing?!" Nazim hissed at him, but Gherib ignored him as he approached the unmoving figure. Still no reaction, not even when Gherib was within spitting distance. Though at this distance, Gherib could see what they had missed at distance.

"He's already dead!" he called back to his squad, and tension drained away in an instant. But something was still wrong, some instinct within Gherib was screaming at him of danger. He studied the corpse closer and looked at his surroundings. Strange, it almost seemed like…

Without conscious thought, Gherib grabbed the corpse and hurled it high into the air, which was accompanied by the sound of a grenade pin being removed. Then, when the corpse was level with a rock outcropping above, there was a startled cry from said outcropping before the corpse detonated and the outcropping vanished in a ball of fire.

"AMBUSH!" Gherib cried out, and his startled squad formed a circle with their kagunes back out again. Seconds later. The cry went up.

"ATTACK!" one word, and both sides of the canyon exploded into action as hostiles swarmed down the steep sides. But it was not the expected human rebels they had been chasing.

"They're ghouls!" someone shouted as the attackers rushed headlong at Gherib's team, kakugans filled with bloodlust as their kagunes exploded out of their backs. Then the two sides slammed into each other with the noise of an avalanche.

"Stand firm!" Gherib called as he tried to make his way back to his squad, but he found his path blocked by hostiles ghouls. The first reared up and cackled with glee as he flexed his rinkaku. He was bisected in half with a single swing of Gherib's sword. Another came at him from behind, rushing across the ground like a bolt of lightning. Gherib was faster as he sent a single swing that lopped off an arm before his free hand grabbed her skull and slammed it hard enough into the rocky ground that her head ruptured like an overripe fruit.

"DIE!" more ghouls came at him with murder in their eyes. First one lost a head, second one was cleaved from shoulder to hip, third one was nailed to the ground with Gherib's sword, fourth one got both of Gherib's fists driven into her stomach and then ripped in half. When the third one tried to break loose, Gherib was there to drive his boot down on his skull with enough force to bury its squashed remains deep into the earth.

Drawing his sword anew, Gherib deflected a blow before his blade was driven straight through the offender's mouth and out the back of it. Reflexes had him raising the still twitching corpse high as a shield, right before a barrage of ukaku projectiles fell upon him, shredding his improvised cover. Above on the cliffs, a ghoul was cackling like a madwoman as she bombarded the field below her in projectiles, heedless of friendly fire. Gherib hefted his sword and hurled it like a javelin, striking the woman straight in the chest and sending her careening into the cliff face behind her with enough force the she ended up buried in the rock itself.

Thinking him defenseless, another ghoul came at him, bladed koukaku raised to cleave him in half. With but one hand, Gherib stopped the blow before his free hand punched straight through the attacker's ribcage like it was wet paper. Then, with a wet squelch, it emerged out of the bloody cavity with the ghoul's still beating heart clutched in its grasp.

"Mind if I borrow this?" Gherib inquired as he pressed the corpse to the ground with his feet, took a firm grasp on the koukaku appendage, and heaved until the whole thing came lose. Giving his improvised weapon a few swings, he dived back into the fray as he knocked aside a bikaku while his weapon swept low to take out both legs at the knees before a swing of his fist pulverized every organ in the chest cavity.

He felt something stab into his shoulder, but there was no pain as Gherib grabbed the offending rinkaku tendril and gave it a hard tug that sent its owner careening straight towards him, where his blade was waiting to split the ghoul wide open from balls to brain, coating Gherib in a layer of blood and entrails as the two halves continued to soar past him on either side.

"Gherib, there's too many of them! We need to fall back!" Nazim shouted as he cut down a hostile ghoul. Turning to where the shout came from, Gherib found his squad pressed in on all sides, steadily losing ground as every hostile felled was replaced by a new one.

"Fall back?! From these cretins?!" Gherib shouted back as he severed a bikaku coming at him.

"We'll die here if we don't!" Nazim replied, locked in a contest of strength with a fellow koukaku wielder. Gherib growled in irritation as his blade decapitated one foe while his free hand smashed straight through another's skull.

"Not while I still stand!" Gherib before ducking under a rinkaku. Then his free hand was grasping the appendage and yanking its owner towards him, slamming the ghoul into the ground and squashing his chest under his boot.

"Rally to me! Rally to me!" he called out, his blade already carving through another ghoul. Slowly, and with great effort, Gherib's squad fought their way to his side, leaving a trail of corpses in their wake.

"Fucking second-rate ghouls! Can't even put up a proper fight!" one of them cursed as he caved in the skull of a hostile, sending bone fragments and brain matter splattering.

"You can complain about their skills when they're not swarming us like this!" another shouted back as she ripped a ghoul in four parts.

"Circle up!" Gherib ordered, his blade buried in a ghoul's stomach before he yanked it upward, splitting the chest and head cleanly in half.

"You heard the man, form up!" Nazim's shout was accompanied by a wet squelching noise as his koukaku ripped a ghoul's head and spine out of her body in one tug. With practiced ease the surviving ghouls formed up in a circle, forming an unbreakable bulwark that he attackers broke against. Time and again they charged, hoping superior numbers would carry the day, but they would not yield, not while Gherib still stood. ankle-deep in blood and entrails, he was an unmovable colossus that ripped every ghoul that challenged him to pieces.

"Death to the abomination!" a ghoul screeched as he leaped high and came down with his hammer-shaped koukau.

"Oh, just shut up and die already, you goat-fucking whoreson!" Gherib roared back, his free hand catching the hammer like it was a pebble thrown by a toddler. The ghoul did not even have time to realize his predicament before he was slammed into the ground with enough force to crush his spine and Gherib's blade nailed him to the ground through the heart. Then, with a boot planted on the ghoul's shoulder, Gherib ripped the koukaku loose. Retrieving his blade, he now faced his opponents with a weapon in each hand. And none dared take so much as a step in his direction any longer.

"Well, who's next?" he challenged, bloodlust burning in his eyes. None answered the challenge.

"The fuck are you lot doing?! He's but one human! ATTACK!" someone from the rear screamed, which galvanized the rest enough that they came at Gherib again.

"Now there's where you're wrong. Whatever I may be…" Gherib began, arms spread in invitation while a horde of ghouls came right at him, ignoring his team behind him.

"Gherib, fall back!" Nazim called after him, to little avail as Gherib stood his ground. Then the first hostile came within striking distance, and he exploded into action.

"I'M NOT HUMAN!" his hammer swung high, smashing the first skull in its path to blood-splattered pieces before continuing on to take the second one cleanly off and crack the third one open like a nut. His blade went low, skewering one ghoul through the stomach. Then it was pushed on until another one, two, three more ghouls adorned the blade. A tug to the side, and all four had their stomachs and side split wide open, entrails spilling out.

Gherib was already on the move again, hammer turning one ghoul's chest cavity into jelly as another lost both his legs to Gherib's blade. Rinkaku tendrils came at him from all sides, but to his eyes they moved with the speed of snails, and he all but glided over and around every single one of them, his blade lashing out to sever them one after the other.

Ukaku projectiles fell like rain, shredding dozens who were to slow to evade. Gherib was not one of them. And those few that he did not evade, he battered out of the air with his weapons before he took a great leap and landed among the ukaku ghouls. Screams followed the ensuing carnage.

"DIE ALREADY, MONSTER!" a bikaku was coming at Gherib, just as he split an ukaku in half.

"Then work harder than this," Gherib countered with a sneer as his hammer slammed into the ghoul's stomach with enough force that the entrails exploded out of his back.

"Fucking lightweight," he grumbled, boot planted on a whimpering ghoul as she tried to crawl away.

"Mercy…" she whimpered, right before Gherib's hammer came down on her skull. A lull in the fighting followed, both sides stopping to simply gape at Gherib, who for his part took the time to survey both himself and the battlefield.

"Damn, I really liked these clothes," he muttered as he poked at his attire, it's original colors of brown and grey lost under layers of blood and gore that drenched every inch of him. Around him, the valley had become a scene of carnage, the ground strewn with the dead and the dying in greater numbers than Gherib had ever seen before. With almost morbid curiosity, he noted the vicious nature of the fighting, with every corpse looking like the mauled leftovers of a savage animal.

Then again, given the nature of ghouls, that was the brutal reality of warfare, exemplified by one ghoul trying to feebly crawl away from the fighting, her lower body nowhere to be seen. _Strange though. This is my first real battle, my first taste of a true slaughter. I've lost count of the number of ghouls I've killed, and I'm still surrounded by enemies. And yet, I don't feel anything. No fear, no anger, no anxiety, no nothing. In fact, I almost feel… at peace, like this is where I truly belong._

To Gherib's mind, his inner musing dragged on for what felt like minutes. But to everyone else, it had been but a single blink of the eye between Gherib looking at his clothes to him turning his attention back to the hostiles. And the second his eyes landed on them, they all took an involuntary step back.

"You done now?" Gherib inquired with the bored disinterest of an adult humoring a stubborn child. No one dared to make a move.

"Fuck this shit, I wasn't paid to fight a monster like that!" someone called from the rear lines, right before the sound of hurried footsteps fleeing the scene could be heard. And like that, the floodgates were opened, and the survivors fled with all haste, screaming in fear.

"Don't let the bastards get away!" Gherib shouted as he took off after them, his squad following close behind. He overtook the first one and ripped her head and spine out in one vicious tug. And like a pack of humans that just found ghoul in its mix, the rest scattered in every direction in a blind panic.

"Dammit! Get back here and fight, damn you!" Gherib roared at his fleeing adversaries, and went unanswered in return. _Cowards, degenerates, backstabbers, filth, wormfodders._ More and more curses piled up in Gherib's mind as he made ready to pursue his adversaries.

"That's enough, Gherib! We've already won, and we'll never be able to catch the rest of them in these mountains!" Nazim called out to him, and Gherib rounded on him with fury in his eyes. It had ever surviving member of his squad taking a few fearful steps away from him.

"You would let these scum escape to cause trouble later?!" he roared, and even Nazim turned pale with fright as Gherib suddenly seemed to loom over them all.

"Trust me, I'm as pissed off about it as you, but we're in no condition to chase them all down. We've chased them off, and that's the best we can really do at this point," but Nazim still dared to stand his ground against a being that had just ripped countless ghouls to shreds with his bare hands. And his mentor's words brought Gherib back to reality as he beheld his bloodied and haggard squad, all of them looking at him in awe and trepidation.

"Right… right… let's head back then," Gherib mumbled. And together, the squad marched back the way they came, leaving behind the scene of carnage. And high above them, from where the entire battle had been safely observed, a hooded stranger smiled in satisfaction.

"Yes, you are the one after all,"

* * *

Gherib's return to the capital was met with great fanfare and jubilation, with the streets lined by stone-faced ghoul guards as the populace crowded behind them and cheering the return of the conquering heroes.

"You'd think we just conquered an entire nation rather than just fend off some low paid mercs," Gherib grumbled as flowers rained down on him from the roofs.

"Now now, those weren't just mercs, they were the vanguard of an invading force sent to probe our lands," Nazim playfully chided, both of them unconcerned about being overheard. The crowd made damn sure that would be an impossibility. Gherib just grunted.

"Still don't see why we need to bother with all of these theatrics,"

"Because as things are boiling over with our neighbors, we need every advantage we can get. The tales of your unstoppable rampage will surely make people think twice about attacking us," Nazim explained.

"And I'm suddenly reminded of why I hate politics," was all Gherib said as they came to a stop before the gates of the great citadel, where Saigo himself waited with the entirety of his court. As one, Gherib and his squad knelt before their lord.

"Rise, my friends, rise!" Saigo proclaimed as he descended from the stairs to stand before Gherib. In turn, Gherib and his squad rose back up again.

"My lord, I return to you in victory, with the enemy dead and broken at my hand! By your will and your name, I have vanquished the wicked and brought stability to your realm!" Gherib's powerful voice carried far and wide, to be heard by as many people as possible. He may detests politics, but that did not mean that he did not know how to play the part when required.

"I hear your words, and they warm my heart! Truly, the realm is blessed to have men like you protecting it from those who would see it brought low! Ad it would be remiss of me to let such great service go unrewarded!" with an imperious gesture, a human slave scurried forward, holding a golden pillow in his hands upon which a medallion rested.

"For strength of arms on the battlefield!" Saigo began as he picked up the medallion. "For courage in the face of overwhelming odds!" here he bid the towering Gherib to lower his head. "And for unswaying loyalty to house Fueguchi, I bestow on you the title of marshal and name you as Protector of the Realm!" and as the medallion was placed around Gherib's neck, the shocked gasps and murmurs broke out all across the city, the reaction travelling ever outward as the news spread like ripples. Never before had those titles been given to a different species, and it left everyone floored. Gherib most of all.

"I thank you for these honors, and I shall strive to live up to your expectations!" nevertheless, Gherib refused to allow any of his doubts and worries to be seen, speaking with the utmost conviction.

"I have no doubt that you shall succeed in your endeveaur, for you has become as my strong right hand!" Saigo replied as he embraced Gherib as if he was kin.

"Keep smiling, Gherib, no matter how daunted you may be by all of this. Never let anyone see your true self. Stand shoulder to shoulder with them, and let them think that you know no fear," Saigo suddenly whispered in Gherib's ear. And as he said it, Gherib suddenly found his eyes drawn to one particular face in the crowd, one who looked upon him with the deepest of hatred.

But there was something in Rin's eyes that told Gherib a darker story, a deeper reason for her sudden escalation in ill feeling towards him. It was just a hunch on his part, one he would never be able to prove, but he got the feeling that she had fully expected him to never return alive from those mountains.

"And never forget who your enemies are, and the slights they offer to you. Even as you may shake hands with them and call them friends, never forget the debts owed, no matter how long you must wait for it to be repaid in full," Gherib could feel the smile on Saigo's face as he whispered the last part, before breaking the embrace.


	5. Chapter 5: Dark Clouds Gather

**Chapter 5: Dark Clouds Gather**

"Checkmate," Saigo announced, his pawn taking Gherib's king. Gherib for his part alternated between glaring at the board and his liege.

"You know I had you there at the end, just one more turn and you would have lost," he argued, gesturing to the board that featured the scant few pieces left to the old monarch boxed in by Gherib's far more numerous forces. That is, save for one tiny little pawn that somehow had slipped through and snatched victory from the jaws of defeat.

"Then it is fortunate that the game did not last another turn," Saigo countered with a satisfied smirk as he leaned back with a cup of wine in hand. Gherib just huffed at the wily old man.

"Alright, I'll concede defeat here, but I'll get you one day," the proclamation was followed by an accusing finger pointed squarely at Saigo's far too smug visage. Had any servant been present in the king's personal solar, they would have been scandalized by such an informal and almost vulgar treatment of their liege. Saigo just laughed at his young ward, only for that laugh to turn into a wheezing cough that sent his cup clattering to the floor and the old man almost toppling out of his seat.

He was saved from such an ignoble mishap by Gherib, who moved with a speed none would have expected of such a towering man and caught his guardian with his massive and robust hands. Hands that could have easily crushed the old man to a paste, but now cradled him in the gentlest of grips and carefully eased him back into his seat.

"Thank you, my boy, thank you," Saigo managed to force out once his violent coughs had subsided, though his old and wrinkled skin remained pale and damp with sweat.

"Should I call for a physician?" Gherib asked, now holding a cloth in hand to gently wipe the sweat from the man's brow as concerned eyes scanned his liege's form for any signs of further health issues.

"Do not bother that senile old goat with something as silly as this, just something that itched in my throat," Saigo assured him with what Gherib suspected was supposed to be an easygoing smile. Why he even bothered with that, when everyone at court already knew of his failing lungs, Gherib would never understand.

"Perhaps you should rest for a bit, to recover your strength. It's been a long day after all," he tried to argue, but Saigo just waved his concerns aside.

"Bah, I'm not that old just yet, brat. I still got enough energy to give you a sore backside in the field, and don't you forget that," even though Gherib stood several heads taller than everyone else in the castle, and far broader as well, he still felt like a tiny little whelp whenever Saigo gave him that look.

"Sorry," he muttered bashfully, which earned him a glare from Saigo.

"Gherib, would you mind getting closer?" he asked, though it was clearly a command, so Gherib dutifully lowered himself to be on equal level to the king, at which point he received a clout round the ear. It barely stung, but the rebuke was clear.

"Never apologize, not even when you're in the wrong. Apologizing is a sign of weakness, a sign that you insecure or easily swayed. If you make a mistake, do everything you can to rectify it, but never acknowledge it to anyone. You understand?" faced with his harsh tone of voice, Gherib could only bow in subservience.

"I understand," he answered, and it brought a smile back to Saigo's face.

"Good, good. Now go, you still have many duties to attend to. After all, a marshal's job is never finished," he instructed whilst leaning back in his chair, a drowsy look slowly coming over him. The wine and old age finally catching up to his robust physique.

"As you command, my liege," Gherib answered, and offered a final bow before rising again and departing the solar, Saigo slowly drifting off into slumber behind him.

"If only I had a son like you," Gherib thought he heard Saigo mumble behind him, but that was surely just him mishearing whatever mumbled nonsense the king uttered in his drowsy state. Outside, he found the usual guards standing vigil, with all four of them straightening up at his appearance.

"His grace is very tired, please escort him to his chambers," Gherib instructed, and received fours nods of confirmation before he departed. Walking down the corridors, giving nods to the ghoul servants bowing in respect to him and completely ignoring the human slaves scurrying like insects to vacate his path, Gherib allowed himself an indulgent feeling of pride. Only fifteen years of age, and he already stood as one of the most powerful men in the kingdom. Before, nobles would scoff and look upon him as just another human servant, even after being given the favor of the king himself. Years of campaigning had given him a fearsome reputation that few dared to oppose these days.

Of course, the source to that reputation, and the source of his pride, was arranged before him out in the training yards as he exited the castle. Rank upon rank, all hard at work with their rigorous drills, none complaining or slacking off. Proud soldiers all. _Gherib's_ proud soldiers all. They had fought together, they had bled together, and they had triumphed together. Wherever they marched, their enemies knew naught but defeat and terror. Across countless battlefields, they had paid in blood for their kingdom's expansion, and they had earned their name a thousand times over: the Dread Reavers.

"My lord," Nazim greeted with a salute and a bow, those around him swiftly following his lead.

"None of that, old friend. You put me in the dirt far too many times in my youth for that kind of formality," Gherib spoke with a friendly pat on the much smaller man's shoulder. It still felt so surreal to Gherib to imagine the grizzled old warrior as _small_.

"I'm afraid you're stuck with this formality from me until the day I die, my lord," Nazim answered, the twinkle in his eyes the only giveaway of his amusement.

"Ah, so I'll have to endure it for all eternity then," Gherib japed, and it brought a miniscule smile to Nazim's lips.

"Hardly, my lord. My best days are far behind me now, I'll probably retire soon enough as it is," he admitted, to which Gherib merely laughed.

"Nonsense, you'll outlive the rest of us easy enough. You're too stubborn to die," he stated with a friendly pat on the back, whilst being careful not to exert too much strength behind.

"If only it was that simple, my lord," Nazim answered in good humor.

"Well, if you need someone to be informal with you, brat, you can always count on me," Ryuju added as he came strolling over.

"Ah, public menace nr 1 finally manages to drag his ragged ass away from the brothels to actually do his job," Gherib joked, earning a round of laughter.

"Try to keep your jealousy in check, brat. I know that it's hard no longer being the prettiest thing in my life, but I was always destined for greater things," Ryuju fired back without hesitation, easygoing smile in place to show it all being in good humor.

"I suppose that's one way to put it, old timer," Gherib relented with a rueful shake of his head. "Anyway, I take it Olga has already left then?"

"Indeed, she wanted to get to the frontiers as soon as possible. I swear, that woman seems to think that something bad will happen if she turns her back for just five minutes," Ryuju commented.

"Must explain why she's always so grumpy when she has to leave us in charge of anything," and Gherib's comment had them all chuckling in good humor.

"But enough small talk, we've got work to do here," with that command, they all strode away, ready to draw up plans for the coming days.

* * *

Hours later, high up on a balcony, Saigo watched the exercise carry on far below him, with the ever energetic Gherib bouncing between formations shouting instructions and encouragements. The old monarch felt a fond smile grow on his lips at the way every soldier seemed to stand straighter and work twice as hard whenever the genius prodigy strayed with hearing distance. Such loyalty and devotion afforded to what many of Saigo's rivals would consider a lesser being. _Fools, the lot of them_.

"You'll go far, kid," he found himself whispering before striding back inside, his bodyguards dutifully falling in line behind him as he strode down the winding corridors of his castle. Finally, his path carried him to the underground levels, accessible to only a few. He rarely ventured down here that often these days, but today, he had a very important reason.

"You grace," greeted the head researcher as he entered her laboratories.

"Helgyn, I trust your work has borne fruit," he simply said, and the eccentric woman instantly straightened up.

"Of course, if you would but follow me," she beckoned, and Saigo wordlessly fell in behind her.

"Marvelous work on those medicines, by the way, they have been a tremendous help with my lungs," he idly commented, and Helgyn visibly beamed at the praise.

"I'm pleased to hear that, your grace. I'm sure that in time, I will have something that will cure you of that illness entirely," she proclaimed with absolute certainty, and Saigo said nothing to dissuade her on that point.

"And here we are," she finally announced as they came to a stop at one of her many workbenches, filled to the brim with test samples and papers packed full of formulas and theories.

"I must say, when we first found that child, I never would have expected that his blood would be such a treasure trove of scientific knowledge. Why, given enough time and resources, the skies are the limits here," she began, but was stopped by a raised hand from Saigo.

"Spare me the lecture and just explain your findings," he ordered, to which Helgyn hastily nodded.

"Of course, of course. Well, I can safely say that Gherib has resilience that rivals and even surpasses that of even the strongest ghoul,"

"I'm well aware of that, I've seen the lad shrug off beatings that would have laid low a ghoul," Saigo interrupted again, but Helgyn was undeterred this time.

"I'm not talking about such crude and unrefined things. No, I'm referring to his very genetic make-up, his every cell's ability to ward off even the deadliest of poisons. His whole body is a masterful work of art, crafted with such power and precision so as to make him the apex being," Helgyn all but gushed while flipping through piles of notes with a downright terrifying speed.

"Work of art? You make it sound like he was machine built in a factory," Saigo was very close to sneering at that point. Helgyn for her part looked almost offended.

"I've studied that boy and his genetics since the day he was dropped in my lap. I've seen his body grow and adapt to every imaginable danger and environment with the kind of progress you would only expect a species to gain after _generations_ , and that brat does it in _days._ Every part of his being has been tailor-made to make him superior to regular living beings in every conceivable way. With all due respect, if that kid isn't some artificial creation, then I might as well resign as Chief Researcher around here," her statement had Saigo rubbing his chin in thought, only to then a wave a dismissive hand.

"Artificial or not, it changes nothing here. Now, moving on,"

"Of course. As I was saying beforehand, his body is capable of rapidly adapting to anything that might threaten it, not to mention recover with the kind of speed we had previously thought only possible with ghouls. But I got some interesting results when I exposed his cells to ghoul cells," again, Helgyn was digging through her notes like a madwoman, throwing papers left and right before retrieving what she had been after.

"Normally, ghoul cells instantly devour any human cells they come into contact with, as it's the only form of sustenance they can acquire,"

"I'd hardly call Gherib a human," the minor interruption earned him a mild glare before Helgyn resumed as if nothing had happened.

"However, while Gherib's DNA bears enough of a resemblance to human cells that the ghoul cells tries to devour them, Gherib's have proven remarkably resilient and even resistant to the ghoul's cells attempt to devour them. As a matter of fact, some of my test samples has seen the two merging in bizarre ways as Gherib's cells fights back in the most effective method imaginable; by becoming just like its predator," Helgyn's voice was tinged by a near maniacal enthusiasm at the end, but Saigo hardly even cared.

"And how have these samples been getting on?" in fact, he was growing rather enthusiastic himself.

"Oh, it's been a mixed bunch. Most have simply died and withered away, as the two types of cells cancel each other out. But I was able to cultivate a few to the point that they survived on their own and even thrived. And the results… by the Shepherd, they are magnificent! Regeneration, endurance, strength, resistance, they all show a greater boost than I have ever seen! More than that, they've even grown a tolerance for sustenance other than human flesh! Oh sure, I still need at least twice the amount normally needed to sustain them if I don't give human cells, but this could still revolutionize our diet! If I could only replicate this on a larger scale, it would remove our dependence on humans for food, allowing our population to grow larger than ever before!" to Saigo, it sounded like she was quite willing and capable of keeping up her rant for ages, so he once again cut in.

"That is concerns for the future, right now I just want one thing answered: do you think it's possible to replicate this feat on a full grown body?" he asked, and her face lit up yet again.

"Absolutely! I would need some time to perfect the procedure, and you would need far bigger chunks than a few drops of blood, but it's completely doable! Just you wait, soon enough that lung problem of yours will be a thing of the past!" she proclaimed, to his amusement. _How cute, she still thinks this is for me._

"In that case, I'll leave you to your important work. I hope for good news within the coming months," with that, he turned and walked out, a fond smile growing on his lips as he thought of the future, and the legacy he would help create.

"You'll go far, kid,"

* * *

Though Gherib relished his work as marshal, there was one aspect of his duties that he had grown to loath with a burning passion, something he had long desired to see banned yet powerless to do so due to its value in running armies and kingdoms.

Paperwork.

Forms that needed to be signed, reports that needed to be reviewed, statistics that needed to be cross-referenced, events that needed to be planned, all ended up at his desk sooner or later, if only to receive a cursory glance and a confirmation from him. A dull, monotonous labor that almost made Gherib wish his body was not able to keep functioning at peak efficiency for days on end without rest of recovery. Alas, the sun had long since set behind the horizon, and yet he did not even feel the least bit tired.

So here he was, alone in his personal solar, hard at work to complete the last few days' worth of paperwork he had foolishly allowed to build up. A shame that the assassination attempts on his life had ceased long ago, he would have welcomed ant form of respite from his work at this point.

"Makes you wonder how Saigo hasn't simply thrown himself off the highest tower by now," he mused jokingly to himself as he made ready to add his signature to the next piece of paper. But just as he was about to begin writing, he stopped.

"If you're here to kill me, either get on with it or leave me be, I don't have the time to be playing any games," he spoke to the seemingly empty room.

"As expected from the spawn of the Anathema," a voice answered from the darkness, and Gherib was instantly on his feet, hand already grasping the pommel of his sword. His eyes tried to search the darkness for this intruder, but found nothing but a black void. A worrisome situation, as he had always been able to see clearly in the dark.

"I'd advise you step forward now, or your death will not be quick or clean," the threat only seemed to amuse the intruder, judging by his throaty chuckles.

"Go right ahead, child, have a go at my flesh if you so please. Won't do you much good in the long run," the voice mocked. And now it was Gherib's turn to smile.

"Gotcha," he murmured, then he moved like lightning, his free hand lashing out into the darkness and finding the soft and squishy throat of the intruder. His eyesight may have been hampered, but his hearing still served him well. With a great heave, he dragged the intruder out of the darkness and slammed him into the wall with such force that the steel buckled. Finally, he could see what he was dealing with, not that it was much to look at. Just a decrepit old man hooded and cloaked.

"Still confident it won't do me much good?" he asked of the intruder as his hand squeezed tighter around the throat, but only received another bout of laughter in return.

"Oh please, save your threats and bravado for someone who cares, I've walked this world for far too long to be bothered by such petty spectacles," the intruder sneered at him without an ounce of fear or discomfort.

"Then why come here? What would you expect to find here beyond your death?" he found himself asking. But something was a bit off here, something did not feel right.

"To finally meet you in person, child of the Anathema. To see what kind of man you are up close and personal," he answered.

"You keep using the title of Anathema as if I'm supposed to know what it means," Gherib remarked, his sword now drawn and idly poking the intruder in his stomach. Still no reaction beyond an amused chuckle.

"Not surprised you remain in the dark. After all, knowing ahead of time would kind of spoil the surprise," he answered with a wide smile. It infuriated Gherib.

"I'm in no mood for games, and my patience just ran out for you. I hope this was worth it for you," Gherib declared as he tightened his fist with the kind of force that could crush boulders. There was a satisfying crack, followed by a crunching noise as the bones in the neck were crushed into gravel by the force behind it.

"You done now?" the intruder asked, his head dangling out of Gherib's grip with no skeletal structure to keep it upright on its own. Gherib nearly released his hold in shock as he stared wide-eyed at the still smiling intruder.

"You are your father's son through and through, a brutish creature only capable of solving issues through brute force," it mocked him, and Gherib's sword skewered the creature right through and nailed it to the wall.

"Oooh, that tickled a bit," it giggled, still smiling like this was all just a big joke to it.

"What the fuck are you?" Gherib found himself asking, unease bubbling in his guts.

"Really, that's what you ask? Not at all interested in your own past here? About where you're from, about who your father is?" the creature pouted at him, like a child denied a treat. Something about its tone helped drive Gherib's unease away and replace it with steely determination.

"Those are questions I stopped caring about a long time ago. Whatever my past may be, it will not affect my future," he declared to the creature, which only made it laugh all the louder.

"Such naivete. Makes me almost wish you lived long enough to see those words come back to haunt you," its mocking had Gherib snarling like an enraged beast, fist brought back to pummel the creature into submission.

"My lord!" the cry suddenly went out from outside his solar as someone began frantically banging on the door before it was kicked open. A startled Gherib turned around to see some of the castle's guards storming in, kagunes at the ready as they scanned the room for hostiles.

"We heard noises from in here, and feared an attack!" the most senior guard reported with a salute to Gherib, an act which made his tense body relaxed slightly.

"Nothing too serious, just a-" but as Gherib turned to gesture at the intruder, he only found his sword stuck in the wall, and a deep imprint where a body should have been nailed to the steel wall. Of said body, there was not the faintest trace.

"My lord?" the guard hesitantly began as Gherib just stared at the empty spot. _What sort of devilry is this?_

"Nothing, just leave," Gherib ordered, and punctuated that order with a fierce glare when the guard looked like he had something to say. With more than a few trembling moves, the guard saluted and led his compatriots out of the solar. Alone again, Gherib stared at his sword, unease bubbling in the pit of his stomach

"What the fuck was that?" he asked himself out loud.

* * *

"Is everyone here then?" an elderly man asked as he gazed upon the group seated around a round table. To the uninitiated and the ignorant, nothing particularly strange or unique could be said about this little gathering. But to those well-versed in the world of politics and intrigue, this was a powerful gathering, only rivaled by Saigo Fueguchi's court. Inside this dimly-lit chamber, a coalition of kings and barons gathered, all united in their hatred of Saigo.

"Not quite, we're still waiting for one last person," one of those people answered, causing another to snort in derision.

"How typical of her to be late at this hour, fucking spoiled brat," he spat out.

"Calm yourself, Gerard. Anger will not help us now," another reprimanded, and was met with a fierce glare.

"As if you're actually feeling any different than me, Clovis. We're all sick and tired of that fucking brat treating this group like we were her vassals," Gerard sneered, and no one made any attempts to counter his claim.

"And yet you keep coming back to these meetings, knowing you could leave anytime you pleased," a new voice added to the conversation, right before the owner of said voice stepped into the dimly lit room.

"As if I have much of a choice, Rin. Your senile old goat of an uncle continues to put pressure on the rest of us, and most of our armies are pissing their pants at the mere thought of standing up to him," Gerard's little rant cast a dark shadow of bitterness over everyone gathered here. The same bitterness that brought them all together in the first place.

"You mean standing up to his lapdog Gherib," Rin pointed out, and that only further darkened the mood.

"Alright, let's not beat around the bush anymore. Saigo is only able to assert such dominance on all of us because Gherib supports him in every venture, and he a force of nature that crushes anything we throw at him," Clovis stated with tired resignation.

"To be beaten and humiliated by a human of all things," Gerard grumbled.

"I'd hardly call that monster a human," the old man commented.

"Indeed, Tomura. My uncle truly has a unique beast to do his bidding. But without his beast, he would be weak and vulnerable," Rin declared. She was met with a while slew of incredulous stares.

"You're not seriously suggesting what I think you're suggesting, Rin," one of the women present all but begged.

"Indeed I am, Maria. I'm suggesting we kill Gherib. Once he's dead, my uncle will have lost his one and only shield blocking us all," Rin stated.

"Big talk from you, considering all of us have already tried and failed at just that. Heck, it was your botched ambush in the mountains all those years ago that started his meteoric rise to power in the first place," another member of the gathering pointed out. Rin's expression seemed to darken at the reminder of that fateful day. The day she was forced to watch her uncle praise and laud that lowborn upstart.

"True enough. However, the mistake that both I and all of you made was that we went at it individually, letting our rivalries keep us divided and easy pickings," nevertheless, she was able to keep her tone calm and level as she explained her stance.

"So you're suggesting we pool our resources into one unified strike to take Gherib out?" Tomura asked.

"Indeed I am. And once he's gone, my uncle can easily be dealt with and the spoils divided between all of us," barely had those words left her mouth before everyone starting eyeing each other up, already making plans on who to ally and who to backstab once it became time to divide the potential spoils.

"That's all well and good, girl, but you're forgetting one crucial detail. We're not exactly in the best of conditions anymore. Our resources have all been bled dry on failed attempts at stopping Saigo's growing influence. Even if we all dragged in every last soldier at our disposal, that's still not enough to guarantee victory. After all, Gherib has faced worse odds and come out on top," and just like that, the mood turned dark again, but Rin remained undaunted.

"It is fortunate then that I've procured a secret weapon for us, one guaranteed to deal with Gherib," she revealed, to the visible shock of the gathering.

"A secret weapon?" Maria repeated dubiously, skeptical about its effectiveness. But that skepticism was slowly being undermined by another feeling: hope. Too long had they all been on the back foot, their every move countered or simply annihilated by the juggernaut known as Gherib. If this secret weapon truly existed, and actually worked…

"Yes, a secret weapon. I've seen it work myself, I know it will work for what we need," spreading her arms wide, Rin now addressed the whole room. "We have one shot at this, ladies and gentlemen, one shot to reclaim what should be rightfully ours. Stand with me, and I swear to you, neither Saigo nor Gherib will stop us. The world will be ours," she vowed, and her words steeled the hearts and minds of those present.

But as they all stepped forward one by one to pledge their allegiance, Rin's mind was far away, lost in memories of rage and humiliation. She remembered the rejections heaped upon her by the rotting piece of filth she called uncle, she remembered his constant critique of her every action. But most of all, she remembered the love and affection heaped upon that disgusting little vermin that fell from the heavens. She remembered clearly and vividly every last moment between those two, remembered how Saigo had looked upon Gherib. How he looked upon that creature as if it was his-

 _I won't let you stop me,_ she vowed to herself _, I won't let you steal what is rightfully mine! I am of the blood of Fueguchi, and I will not be supplanted by some alien trash that crashed onto our world!_


End file.
